The New World
by BewareTheWalkers
Summary: The new world they thought of never included Negan, never included losing so many people. For Clary, it included her family, happy with their hearts still beating. It didn't include death, destruction, and damnation.
1. Prologue: Wake Up

**Prologue: Wake Up**

 **~Clary~**

Rick and I never leave Carl's side after the walkers in Alexandria. Not for more than a few minutes, while Rick went to check on Judith, and I left to check on Daryl and Glenn. I lean in the door on the day after, Rick having made his "new world" speech this morning. "Rick," I say, causing the officer to look up. "Can I have a few minutes alone?"

He looks down at his son, then gets to his feet. Rick gently squeezes my shoulder as he passes, whispering, "Take care of my son."

I don't speak, not trusting myself enough to not break down. I simply nod, closing the door behind me. I get on my knees at Carl's side, taking his hand. "Please, Carl, if you can hear me," I say softly. "No, it's probably better you don't. I don't know if you can make it through this. Denise says we got you here in time, but I don't know. Something this serious, I don't know if you'll survive."

Carl's hand tightens around mine like it did earlier this morning, a soft groan escaping his lips. I lean closer as he repeats it, closing my eyes as I understand what he's saying. " _Clary."_

"Shh," I shush him. "Don't talk."

"I should've listened," he whispers, still not opening his remaining eye, but I think he's with me. "He had the gun."

"I know, I know, shh," I tell him. "I know, I know, shh. I didn't stop him in time."

"Before we got out there, I knew they weren't going to make it."

"I know, I know."

"I had the gun and I lost it to him."

"I know, save your strength and stay alive!"

"Don't worry about me."

"I can't do anything but," I say, pulling my hands away from his to wipe my eyes. I turn back, only to find that he's gone still. "Carl?" My voice rises as I start to panic, thinking that he's gone. "Carl! _Carl!"_

I don't turn away from him as the door opens, Rick rushing in. "Clary?" he questions, his panic showing in the quickness of his voice. "I heard his voice!"

"Carl, please!" I beg, crying now. "Please, stay alive!"

Rick kneels beside me, taking his son's hand. "Carl, can you hear me?"

I got to my feet, stretching to lean over Carl. I lean down, my cheek hovering above his mouth and nose. I close my eyes, impatiently waiting, then feel his breath on my cheek. "He's alive," I manage. "He's still alive." I look back down at Carl, pressing my lips to his forehead. "Just stay alive. That would be enough."

* * *

 **~Carl~**

I look down at Clary as she lays on the bed beside me, curled up against my side. I'm not sure if she's asleep or not, either still awake or sleeping for the first time in days. It'd be good if she was. It's not healthy, the way that she's constantly running on just a few hours, never a full night's sleep, and then making it stretch over a few days. I mean, I get why she doesn't sleep. She's too often plagued by nightmares, of the horrible things she's endured throughout her entire life. I think the reason that I look up to her so much is because I've often questioned if I would've survived everything she's been through, every corner she's been backed into. And most of the time, my answer to that is no. So I get why she doesn't sleep, because there isn't anyone left alive today that doesn't have nightmares. It's just one of the things this world has forced upon them.

"This world," I say, looking down. "It's taking a toll on you, and it's making you into a different person. I don't know what kind of person that is, but you're fighting every day, becoming stronger against this world. Someday, you're gonna be humanity's strongest. I might not be able to remember some things that have happened since the beginning… well, a lot of things, actually. But I remember your strength. How with each fight, no matter what toll it takes on you, you always emerge victorious. Stronger, too. So listen when I say this: Let the walkers, the people, whatever we face, let them do their thing. They will never defeat you. I know you can face the world on your own, but know that you're never all alone. Clary, I hope you hear me. That's my wish. For you to be the best you can still be. But, I won't lie. I wish I was still there standing proud by your side. I know those times are over. I can't fight anymore. We used to be a duo. We weren't quite like you and Daryl, or you and Glenn, but we did kick ass together every now and then. Those were my best moments, when I got to be the person I've always wanted to be. I'm sorry that's over."

"Don't be," Clary mumbles, the sleepiness in her voice making it obvious that I woke her. She doesn't even move, still lying where she was at my side. "We kicked ass, but I was too busy lookin' after yours at the same time." Clary opens her eyes, looking up at me. "I heard you, just so you know. All of it. You'd be surprised, the promises I've heard you make when you thought I couldn't hear you."

"Don't think what happened was your fault. Nothing could've prevented it."

"Aside from me killing Ron when I wanted to, but you stopped me."

"Okay, yes, that technically would've prevented it. But it happened and that's not going to change." Clary gets up, pulling on her boots. "Hey, where are you going?"

"Relax," she says. "I'll be back. I haven't really seen Daryl since he got back."

"You'll be back?"

Clary pauses, then looks over her shoulder at me. "I'll be back."

* * *

 **~Clary~**

"What're you writing?" Carl questions from where he sits, his back resting against the headboard.

"Hmm?" I question, looking up from my notebook.

Carl gestures to the notebook. "I asked about what you're writing."

"Oh," I say with a small laugh, looking down at it. "Well, it's, uh, everything you've done. Things I've seen you do. 'Cause I heard you sayin' you don't remember a lot of stuff. Like, um, when you saved my life at the quarry."

" _I_ saved _your_ life? Are you sure it isn't the other way around?"

"No, I'm sure," I tell him, moving to sit next to him. I pass him the notebook, watching as he skims over it. "Walkers, a whole group of 'em, came. We were gettin' to the RV. I guess… I guess Shane didn't see it, or maybe he just wanted me dead. I don't know. It wouldn't really surprise me if that's what it was. I mean, he tried to kill me more than once. But, um, this walker came up. Grabbed my arm. You just grabbed my other arm, kept pulling me away. That's when Daryl, Glenn, Rick… T-Dog. That's when they got back. Daryl killed that walker, but you, you saved me."

"Sounds like I didn't do enough," he mutters.

"That's what you always said about that night," I tell him. "You always thought that. But you saved me when Shane wanted me dead." Carl's silent, and it dawns on me that he doesn't remember how Shane lost it. "Hey, Carl. Look at me." He lifts his eye, his expression unreadable. "I'm, uh, I'm sorry for what I said about Shane. I know you cared."

Carl glances at the necklace around my neck. "That's his."

I put my hand over it, as if it'll make him forget I'm wearing the necklace that used to belong to his father's best friend. "I took it after he died. Shane mighta wanted me dead, but all he did was teach me to stay alive. Made me realize I had to fight, I couldn't back down, if I wanted to be there for the people I care about."

"So you wear it to remind yourself," Carl states. He glances down at the notebook, then back up at me. "We were in a prison?"

"Yeah," I say. "That's where…"

"My mom died," he finishes. "I don't really remember losing her."

"I don't know if that's better or worse," I admit. "I wish I could forget Merle, forget Sam. Forget Beth. But then I wouldn't have anythin' to keep fightin' for."

"Wait, Merle? You mean your brother? He was alive?"

"Carl, what's the last thing you remember? At the quarry?"

"That's kinda hard. I mean, I remember little things from after it, but they're kinda fuzzy. The quarry, the last thing I remember is my dad and the guys leaving to go get Merle. And then, after that, I remember a farm, but I don't remember Merle being there. I thought he died back in Atlanta. I guess he was with another group."

"Yeah, another group," I say, curling my hand into a fist as I think of the Governor and all that he's done to us. _To me._ "The Governor."

"The Governor?" Carl repeats. "I think… I think I remember him. He had an eyepatch?" I nod once. "He ran the other group?" I nod again, not meeting his gaze. "You okay?"

"Honestly?" I question, looking up. "No. The Governor… he did things to our group. To me."

"What'd he do?" Carl inquires, taking my hand.

"I don't like talkin' 'bout it," I say, looking down at the hand in my lap. "You know I don't scare."

"And it terrified you," Carl guesses, then wraps his arm around my shoulders. "It's okay. He's dead, isn't he?"

"I killed him."

"You… you killed him?"

"Like I killed the other twenty-one."

Carl looks at me now. "You've killed twenty-two people?"

"And caused the deaths of more. I'll kill more before I die."

"You're… Clary, you're not gonna die. I couldn't stand it if you died."

"One day, one way, I'm gonna be gone."

"Clary, stop," Carl begs, his remaining eye shining with tears. "Please, just stop. I don't remember much, but I remember you. I remember that house, the pudding. I remember both of us squeezing into that one bed in a cell."

"At the prison," I confirm. "We used to walk the perimeter at night sometimes, before we went to bed. You did it 'cause you knew I have trouble sleeping. When flowers started growing, after Rick started growing plants with Hershel, that's when we started patrolling. One time, I remember you picked a flower. It was a Cherokee Rose. You, uh, you put it behind my ear. You said, 'It's pretty, but not as pretty as you.'"

"Hey, Clary?"

"Hmm?"

"That hasn't changed."

I smile softly, resting my head on his shoulder. We both look up as the door opens, Rick stepping through. He studies the two of us for a moment, then turns to me. "It's nice to see you smile again," he says. "That's something I haven't seen for a while." I duck down, trying to avoid his hand as he ruffles my hair, causing Carl to chuckle. "Do you mind if it's just me and Carl?"

I shake my head, climbing out of the bed. Carl kisses my cheek before I go, making me promise that I'll come back. As if I'm not already planning on it. I open the door, then pause when I hear Carl say softly, "Love you, Clary."

I turn around, looking back at him. I don't think he expected me to hear him, but I still did. "Ditto," I reply.

* * *

 **~Glenn~**

I open my eyes as I hear Clary murmuring my name, realizing we both fell asleep in the living room. She was curled up on one end of the couch, while I fell asleep at the other. "Hmm?" I question, rubbing my eyes to wake up. "Clary? Did you say something?"

"Glenn," she repeats.

 _Is she talking in her sleep? Why is she saying my name? What's she dreaming about?_

"Glenn," she whimpers, her voice wavering. "Don't die… please… don't leave me."

I knew she had nightmares about us dying more often than not, and I've seen her in the aftermath of them, but never during. And not like this. "Clary," I say, leaning over to shake her awake. "Hey, Clary! Wake up!"

She opens her eyes, looking up at me. "Glenn?"

"I'm here, Clary," I tell her. "You just had a bad dr—" I cut myself off halfway through as she threw her arms around me, slightly surprised at how she's clinging to me. Lately, she's been distancing herself more and more from everyone, even her brother. I wrap my arms around her, holding her as she shakes. "It's okay. I'm here. It was just a nightmare. I'm here. You just have to wake up."

* * *

 **I'm back again with yet another Clary Dixon fanfiction. I also made a trailer for this one, and it can be found on YouTube at** **watch?v=gfR2NRlcoGg. If you don't feel like copying the link, search "BewareTheWalkers" and my channel should be the first thing that comes up.**


	2. 1: Sound the Bugle

**Chapter 1: Sound the Bugle**

 **~Clary~**

"I simply cannot fucking decide."

At Negan's statement, all of us in the lineup look around at each other, thinking maybe we'll get out of this. Maybe we're off the hook. Maybe we all get to live another day because Negan cannot decide. Then, he laughs, and I know we're not all getting out of this alive.

"I've got an idea," he says. Lucille lands on me first, then points to the rest of us in turn as he says, "Eenie… meenie… miney… mo… Catch… a tiger… by his toe… if he hollers… let him go… My mother… told me… to pick… the very best one… and you… are…"

Negan becomes silent, making a show of pointing to each of us. He pauses on me, but I don't see it. I'm looking to the sky possibly one last time, waiting for the sun to rise. _Please,_ I silently beg, _let it be me._

"It."

I'm not it.

"Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy's other fucking eye out and feed it to his father," Negan threatens. "And _then_ we'll start."

It's Abraham.

"You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell, you're all gonna be doing that."

 _Crack!_

Negan swings, and the image of Abraham getting back up, blood dripping from his already red hair, will haunt me for the rest of my life. _For however long that'll be_ , as Abe once said.

"Look at that," Negan laughs. "Taking it like a champ!"

Then, Abraham says the most Abraham-est thing imaginable. "Suck… my… nuts."

Negan swings a second time, and this time, Abraham doesn't get back up. Across the lineup, Eugene squeezes his eyes closed at seeing his friend beaten to death. Me? I watch. I watch the entire thing. Why? I have to. I don't look away, not once. I have to be here for this. Negan's serious, and he's scary as shit. I have to watch to learn. Learn what he's capable of, learn his style, learn what makes him kill. So I can make sure he doesn't kill any more of my family.

"Oh, my goodness!" Negan laughs as he steps away from Abraham's body. He swings Lucille around, causing Abraham's blood to splatter onto Rick's cheek, running down it into his beard. "Look at this! You guys, look at my dirty girl!" Negan's eyes land on Rosita, the only one not staring at him in horror. He makes his way over to her, holding Lucille inches from Rosita's face, forcing her to look at the weapon he used to kill the man she loved. "Sweetheart, lay your eyes on this." Negan looks from Abraham's body to Rosita, putting two and two together when he sees how Rosita's shaking. "Oh, damn. Were you together? That sucks. But if you were, you should know there was a reason for all this. Red, and hell he was, is, and will ever be red. He just took one or six or seven for the team! So _take a damn look._ " Rosita still won't look at the bat. "Take a fucking look!"

Daryl's had enough by then, scrambling to his feet and throwing a punch that knocks Negan back. The Saviors rush to subdue Daryl before he can attack their leader again. If it were me, I wouldn't have gone for a punch. I would've gone for the fucking bat and used it to bash Negan's skull in. Rick barks, "Daryl!"

"No!" Negan barks, as if he's disciplining a dog. "Oh, no. That? Oh, my!" Negan crouches next to Daryl, where the Saviors have gotten him on the ground. "That is a no-no. The whole thing! Not one bit of that shit flies here!"

 _Maybe I could grab Lucille right now and―OH FUCK!_

My heart skips a beat when I see Dwight aiming Daryl's own crossbow at him, and I know I have to act fast because Dwight's merciless. He looks to Negan, asking, "You want me to do it? Right here?"

"Dwight, please!" I beg. "Please! Dwight! I aimed at the sky! I shot in the air, you son of a bitch!"

Negan looks at Daryl, to me, and then to Dwight. "No," he says. "No, you don't kill them. Not until you try a little." Dwight stands down, giving the two Saviors a hand dragging Daryl back in line as Negan gets to his feet. "And anyway… that's not how it works. Now, I already told you people. First one's free. Then, what'd I say? Tiger, what'd I say?"

Negan points to me with Lucille, and I realize that I'm the tiger. I answer, "You'd shut that shit down."

He puts a hand to ear. "One more time."

"You'd shut that shit down," I repeat. "No exceptions."

"That's right. No exceptions. Now, I don't know what kind of lying assholes you've been dealing with… but I'm a man of my word." Negan makes his way closer to Glenn and I, and my heart starts beating faster and faster as I fear for both of our lives. "First impressions are important." _Yeah, well my first impression is that you're a fucking psycho._ "I need you to know me. So… back to it!"

He spins, and for a second, I think that I'm going to be the one to die because Daryl didn't follow the rules. But Negan said he wouldn't kill me, and he's a man of his word, right? Still, I rise on my knees to meet him, unafraid of death, just like Abraham. But I'm not the second victim. Instead, Lucille rains down on Glenn, Maggie letting out a scream. Glenn gets back up, too, but he was hit harder than Abraham. There's more blood, and his left eye is bulging out of his head. _Oh god, the blood. There's so much blood._ He moans, trying to form any words. _No, no, no no no no, please, no._

Negan leans down, trying to get Glenn's attention; but all of Glenn's attention is on his wife. "Buddy, you still there?" Negan questions. "I just don't know. It seems like you're trying to speak, but you just took a hell of a hit! I just popped your skull so hard, your eyeball just popped out! And it is gross as shit!"

"Maggie," Glenn finally manages, "I'll find you."

Suddenly, it's just the three of us in Woodbury again, Glenn taking my hand and whispering to just look at him, that it'll be okay. I find myself reaching for his hand, whispering, "I'll avenge you. A thousand times over."

Negan turns away, drawing out Glenn's suffering. This is it. This is my brother's end, my sidekick's last moments. And he's in _so much pain_. Our hands meet, and his tightens around mine. I almost wish Negan would do it already, just so Glenn's not in any more pain. Negan straightens, looking to Maggie. "Oh," he says softly. "Oh, hell. I can see this is hard on you guys. I am sorry. I truly am. But I did say it. No exceptions!"

Negan spins, swinging Lucille. Glenn's blood sprays across my face, his hand leaving mine. I forget about the consequences as I move, catching Glenn before he hits the ground. His head lands against my stomach, painting me with his blood. "Oh, fuck no," Negan growls.

He puts his hand on my injured shoulder, squeezing, and I let out a cry of pain as he throws me off to the side. I'm back on my knees within seconds, and Negan doesn't hesitate to continue beating in his head. With each raise of his bat, more of Glenn's blood is splashed on me. I can't do anything but stare at Glenn's body as he's murdered, his body twitching even after he's dead. Then, I look to Daryl, who watches in equal horror. Our eyes meet. "This was you," I say slowly, and heads turn to me. "This was you!" My voice rises to a scream, and Daryl shrinks back. "This _is on you! His blood's on your hands! THIS IS YOU!"_

Negan laughs. "Damn, ya bunch of pussies. I'm just getting started." He swings again and again, bashing Glenn's head in until there's nothing left. Glenn's blood splatters on me with every swing, and I'm soon covered in my brother's blood. "Lucille _is_ thirsty. She's a vampire bat!" Everyone's eyes are on Negan as he makes his way towards Rick, terrified of a third victim tonight. "What? Was the joke really that bad?"

Rick lifts his head, promising, "I'm gonna kill you."

Negan kneels in front of Rick, holding the bloodied Lucille between them. "What? I didn't quite catch that. You're gonna have to speak up."

"Rick, shut up," I rush, hoping that he'll listen and I can protect him. "Don't—"

"I'm gonna kill you," Rick repeats. "Not today, not tomorrow, but I'm gonna kill you."

"Jesus," Negan sighs. "Simon. What'd he have, a knife?"

"He had a hatchet," the Savior that did all the speaking earlier tonight says.

Negan looks up at his man. "A hatchet?"

"He had an ax."

Negan chuckles, looking back to Rick. "Simon's my right hand man." _Good, I know the second person I need to kill._ "Having one of those is important. I mean, what do you have left without 'em? A whole lot of work. Do you have one? Maybe one of these fine people still breathing?" Negan glances over his shoulder at me. "Maybe Hilary Swank over there?" Negan looks back at Rick. "Oh, or did I…" He clicks his tongue, imitating the sound of the bat as it hit Glenn and Abraham. "Sure. Yeah. Give me his ax." Simon hands the hatchet over, and Negan tucks it into his belt as he gets to his feet. "I'll be right back." He takes the collar of Rick's coat, pulling Rick with him as he turns. "Maybe Rick will be with me." He drags Rick with him towards the RV. "And if not, well, we can just turn these people inside out, won't we? I mean, the ones that are left."

* * *

 **~Rick~**

"Well, look at that," Negan says as he gets in the driver's seat of the RV. "Dawn is breaking. It's a brand new day, Rick. What was that Clary was saying? I want you to think about what could've happened, think about what happened, and think about what can still happen."

The engine starts the second time Negan tries it, and I stay on the RV floor as he drives. I do what he says; I think about what could've happened, what happened, and what can still happen. _What's happened and what's going on._ I think of each person in the lineup, about how we first met and the time we spent together. And now, all of their lives are in more danger than ever. Eventually, the RV stops, and Negan steps back. He takes a seat on the couch beside me, looking down. "You are mine," he says. "Those people back there, they are mine." He holds up my hatchet. "This is mine."

As Negan opens the door, I can hear the growling of walkers. Negan kills one by the door, then throws the ax onto the roof. "Hey, Rick, go get my ax," he says. "Let's be friends." A second walker approaches the RV, and Negan uses his bat to kill it. "I said, get my ax."

I get up, turning to face him; and Negan shoves me out of the RV and closes the door. As I hit the ground, walkers stumble towards me. I get to my feet, shoving them out of my way as I try to figure out where I am. I make my way towards the back of the RV, where the ladder to the roof is, shoving walkers down as I move. When I hear chains clinking, I instantly know where we are. The bridge that they threw the man off of, the one that I wouldn't let Aaron waste a bullet on. I reach the ladder, scrambling up it. A walker grabs my foot as I'm about halfway up, and I kick it to free myself. I stand on top of the RV, looking around at the burning logs and walkers. I turn, facing the walker that was once the man that was thrown off the bridge. I get down on my knees, just like all the others still are back in that clearing.

"Bet you thought you were all gonna grow old together," Negan says from inside the RV, "sitting around the table at Sunday dinner and the happily ever after. No. Doesn't work like that, Rick. Not anymore. Think about what happened." I lay back on the RV, staring up at the sky with the hatchet beside me. "People died, Rick. It's what happened. Doesn't mean the rest of them have to. Give me my ax. Give me… my… ax!" I look over at it beside me. "Thought you were the guy, Rick. Maybe it's not her. Maybe you didn't give up the crown to a teenager." I start to get to my feet as I think of Clary back there, about how she stepped up and maybe saved my life. If I die, then she's going to be left in charge, and I can't add that kind of pressure to what she's already feeling. "We'll give it one more go. Now, I really want you to try this time. Last chance! Bring me my ax!"

I jolt to my feet, grabbing the ax, when I hear the gunshots. I take off running, jumping off the back of the RV and grabbing the walker hanging from the bridge. I drop the hatchet as I scramble to hold on, and the walker's hands close around my shoulders, trying to pull me up to bite me. I slide down just a bit, and the walkers below are grabbing at my legs, trying to pull me down. The walker I'm hanging onto is starting to fall, its head beginning to detach from its body. Gunfire rings out, and the walkers below me fall to the ground, dead. _Negan._ He fires at ones around me as the walker's body detaches from its head, and I fall. "Clock is ticking, Rick," he calls before the closing the RV window. "Think about what can still happen."

I struggle to get out of the pile of walkers, some of them still alive, as I think about what can still happen. I imagine what's left of my family being killed like Glenn and Abraham. I become more and more frantic as I think of Carl, of Michonne, of Clary. I crawl around on my hands and knees, desperately searching for the ax. I scramble to my feet, swinging the ax and killed a walker in my way. Negan blows the horn, causing the walkers to turn away from me towards the RV. I take them out from behind, keeping my back to the RV. When I reach the door, I find that it's locked. A walker appears from my right, and I don't have enough time to get my hatchet up. I slam its head against the RV, and it's enough to kill it. I drop my hatchet as I have to shove others back, and I drop to one knee to pick it up. I start to get up to kill the walkers, but the door opens, Negan firing on the walkers. I scramble in after him, pausing to catch my breath. Negan holds out a hand, and I place my hatchet in it before taking a seat.

"Attaboy!" Negan says with a grin. He drives the bloodied ax into the table, then starts the RV. I sit at the table, tense and exhausted, as he drives back. I close my eyes, then open them as Negan claps his hands. "We're here, prick." I glare up at him as he stands above me, searching each of the cabinets. "This must be hard for you, right? I mean, you've been King Shit for so long. I don't care, Rick, if you're in charge of your group or Clary is. Not as long as you people answer to me. Losing two of your own like that. Gettin' 'em clipped like that, one nut, then the other, and in front of your boy? That is some fucked up shit!" He pauses as he pulls a bottle of rubbing alcohol out of a cabinet. "Oh, goody." He steps back over with a rag in hand, unscrewing the bottle. "That girl might be now, but you were in charge before." He picks up the ax, wiping the blood off of it on my jacket. "Hell, you were probably addicted to it. And now, well, clip, clip, it's over." Negan pours the alcohol over the blade of the ax, wiping it off with the rag. "But you can still lead a nice, productive life producing for me." He holds the ax out for me to take. "I think you're gonna need it. I just got a feeling. So take it."

I take the ax.

* * *

 **~Clary~**

Rick falls to the ground as soon as the RV door opens, hatchet in hand. Negan steps out behind him, dragging him back across the clearing and dropping him in front of the lineup. From what I can see, it doesn't look like Negan hurt Rick. "Well, here we are," Negan says. "Let me ask you something, Rick, do you even know what that little trip was about?" He says nothing. "Speak when you're spoken to."

"Okay, okay," Rick says.

"That trip was about the way that you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand. But you're still looking at me the same damn way, like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that's not gonna work. So, question is, do I give you another chance?"

"Yeah," Rick says. His breathing is shaky, and he won't look up at Negan. "Yes."

Negan pats Rick's shoulder. "Okay. Alright. And here it is, grand prize game. What you do next will decide whether your crap day becomes everyone's last crap day or just another crap day. Get some guns to the back of their heads." I'm pushed forward a bit as I feel the barrel of a rifle pressing into the back of my skull. "Good. Now level with their noses so if you have to fire, it'll be a real mess." Negan turns to the Savior behind me. "Not her. Get her up here."

The Saviors try to manhandle me to the middle of the lineup, but I push them off, snapping, "Get off me! I can do it myself!"

Negan laughs. "You got spunk, _Million Dollar Baby._ That's why I like you."

The Saviors push me to the ground beside Rick, and I follow Negan's gaze to Carl. "Kid. Right here. Kid… now."

Carl looks to me, and I nod, silently telling him to comply. He gets to his feet, stepping forward. I watch, terrified for the three of us standing here, as Negan unbuckles his belt, pulling it off. "You a Southpaw?" Negan questions.

"Am I a what?" Carl asks.

"He's askin' if you're a lefty," I say.

Carl glances down at me before glaring back up at Negan. "No."

"Good," Negan says, tightening his belt on a spot just above Carl's left elbow. "That hurt?"

"No."

"It should. It's supposed to." Negan steps back, and I see that he's wrapped his belt around Carl's arm. _Oh, god, no, please._ "Alright, kid, get on the ground next to Daddy." He takes Carl's hat, tossing it over is shoulder. "Spread them wings."

Carl gets down on his hands and knees, and Negan pushes him down until he's lying flat on the ground. "Simon," Negan says, looking to his right hand man. "You got a pen?"

"Yeah," Simon says, searching his pockets. He pulls out a marker, tossing it to Negan.

Negan uncaps the pen, holding it between his teeth as he kneels next to Carl, pushing his sleeve up. "Sorry, kid," Negan says, drawing a line on Carl's forearm. "This is gonna be as cold as a warlock's ballsack, just like he was hanging his ballsack above you and dragging it right across the forearm." Negan pulls the marker back, and I see the line is the middle of his forearm. "There you go. Gives you a little leverage."

"Please, please," Rick begs. "Please don't."

"No, no, please don't do this," I add.

"Me?" Negan questions, looking between Rick and I before finally landing on me. "I ain't doin' shit." He gets to his feet. "Alright, Rick, I want you to give Clary your ax. Clary, I want you to take the ax and cut your boyfriend's left arm off, right on that line. Now, I know, I know, you're gonna have to process that a second. That makes sense. Still, though, I'm gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die. Then Carl dies, then all the people back home die, and then you. Eventually. I'm gonna keep you breathing for a few years, just so you can stew on it."

I'm faced with two choices. Maim Carl, and our count will be two dead and three injured. Or, I refuse, and we'll all be dead. I almost consider the first option, until I remember Lee in that jewelry shop in Savannah. Clem said they got the arm that was bitten off in time, that it was the blood loss. I look down at Carl, not wanting him to end up dead in a jewelry shop like Lee.

"You―you don't have to do this!" Michonne stutters. "We understand. We understand."

" _You_ understand," Negan says. "Yeah. Good. I'm not sure Rick or Clary do. I'm gonna need a clean cut, right there on that line. Now, I know this is a fucked up thing to ask, but it's gonna have to be like a salami slice. Nothing messy, clean, forty-five degrees. Give us something to fold over. We got a great doctor. The kid'll be fine. Probably. Clary… this needs to happen now, chop, chop, or I will crush the little fella's skull myself."

"It can be me," Rick pleads, his eyes starting to water at the thought of anything happening to his son. "It can be me. You can do it to me. I can go with you."

"No. But, you can hold down junior's arm. This is the only way. Clary, pick up the ax." Negan turns to me as I hesitate to reach for the ax between Rick and I. "Not making a decision is a big decision. You really want to see all these people die? 'Cause you will. You will see every ugly thing. Oh, my god. Are you gonna make me count?"

"Just give me a minute," I plead. "We got all the time in the world, right?"

"Ten seconds, and then I start counting." The last person I'd expect to think of is the man I think of. _Shane Walsh._ "Five, four—You really want all this blood on your hands?! I will kill every last one of your people!"

"'When you look at it in the cold light of day," I say, looking up at Negan, "you're pretty much dead already.'"

"Okay, Clary, you win! I am counting! Three!"

"Please!" Rick begs. "Please! It can be me! Please!"

"Just fuckin' kill me!" I cry. "Not them! Please! Let it be me!"

"Two!" Negan barks. "This is it! One!"

I grab the ax, openly sobbing as I do so. Carl and I share a look, and I'm suddenly reminded of that day two years ago. The day Sophia went missing, the day I truly began to feel the effects of the apocalypse. I'm reminded of the way Carl looked when we were hiding under the cars, how he smiled at Sophia and I after we thought they were gone. I saw him during it, though, while the walker herd was making their way through. He always thought that I didn't see him, just because Sophia didn't.

 _But I'm not Sophia_.

I picked up on it. I saw the fear in his eyes that day, one of the times he was truly scared during all of this. There's fear when you're in a tight spot, and then there's the real fear, the true terror. That's what I saw that day, the true fear. And I see it again now, in his remaining eye. Oh, how far we've come since that day. How much we've changed. If our past selves saw us today, the way we are now, they'd turn tail and run the other way. I wouldn't blame them. We're scary as shit now. Andy, from the Hilltop, said it best, but I don't think he ever met Negan. He said that we were scary, and that the Saviors had nothing on us. He never saw what Negan could do. What Negan's making me do.

"Please, don't!" I sob, looking up at Negan. "Don't make me do this!"

"It's okay," Carl says. My eyes flick down to him, our gazes meeting. "It's okay, baby. Just do it."

I raise the ax, and I only stop when I see Negan kneel beside Rick, grinning. Rick looks up, glancing at me before turning to Negan. My hand tightens around Carl's as I drop the ax, reaching across to Rick to keep myself up as I struggle to get enough air. When Rick notices that I'm starting to hyperventilate, he rests his hand on my back and slows his breathing, silently trying to get me to match his. Negan's not phased whatsoever, saying, "You answer to me. You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?" Rick and I nod, unable to speak. We hope that gets our message across, but it does nothing but piss Negan off. He grabs Rick's chin in one hand, mine in the other, and forces us to look at him. "Speak when you're spoken to! You answer to me! You provide for me!"

"Provide for you," Rick and I echo.

"You belong to me, right?!"

"Right," Rick says, and Negan looks to me. I add, "We belong to you."

"Right," Negan says, releasing us. "That is the look I wanted to see!" He gets to his feet, taking the hatchet with him. "We did it. All of us, together, even the dead guys on the ground. Hell, they get the spirit award for sure! Today was a productive damn day!" Negan sighs. "Now, I hope, for all your sake that you get it now. That you understand how things works. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you, that is over now. Ah, Dwight, load him up."

I turn to find him pointing to my brother. Dwight pulls Daryl, who puts up a fight the entire time, to his feet, shoving him back into the van. Dwight aims his crossbow at him again, and Daryl moves from one side of the van to the other, on his hands and knees, like a trapped animal. Daryl's eyes meet mine, and I look away, knowing I'm powerless to help him. Negan kneels beside Rick and I, his eyes on me. "What?" he asks. "Nothing? Not even a peep?"

I look up at Negan through the hair in my eyes, whispering, "There's rules."

Negan chuckles. "You catch on quick, tiger."

"Please, don't hurt my brother," I blurt, then instantly regret speaking, even if it is begging Negan. We're not supposed to argue, right? We speak only when spoken to. But still, I can't help myself. Even though I hate this, being reduced to begging a man that killed my family, I still do it. And I _don't_ beg, but here I am, willing to do whatever for Daryl. "Negan, please. I'll do whatever you want. We'll behave."

"Oh, we won't," Negan assures me. "Unless he gives us a reason to. I'm a man of my word, remember? He's got guts. Is it a family thing? You two aren't little bitches like someone I know. I like him. He's mine now. But you still want to try something, Rick? 'Not today, not tomorrow. Not today, not tomorrow.' I will cut pieces off of…" Negan pauses, looking up at one of his Saviors. "Hell's his name?"

"Daryl," Simon answers.

"Wow. That actually sounds right." Negan turns back to Rick and I. "I will cut pieces off of Daryl and put them on your doorstep. Or, better yet, I will bring him to you and have you do it for me." Negan chuckles, getting to his feet. "Welcome to a brand new beginning, you sorry shits! I'm gonna leave you a truck. Keep it. Use it to cart all the crap you're gonna find me. We'll be back for our first offering in one week. Until then, ta-ta."

The Saviors all break apart, each heading to their vehicle. It doesn't take long before they're all gone. They leave us in the clearing, Negan's words ringing in my ears. _You belong to me._

" _I don't belong to nobody."_

* * *

 **~Aaron~**

 _You gotta promise me something. You gotta take care of Clary._

Daryl's words from three months ago are the only thing I can think of as I stare at Clary. She and Carl mirror each other, each sitting with their arms wrapped around their legs. Clary sits with her back to almost everyone, staring at Glenn's body, while Carl sits with his back against hers. She's doesn't pay attention to anything, not even Carl as he ties Jesus's bandana around Clary's wrist.

 _I need you to take care of her for me._

She's in my care now, and I'm not letting this girl out of my sight after last night. I start to get up, to walk over to her, when Maggie pushes herself to her feet. "Maggie," Rick says. "Maggie, you need to sit down." He gets to his feet. "Maggie."

"No," she replies, making her way towards Glenn.

"We need to get you to the Hilltop," Rick says. "Clary, too."

"Y'all need to go get ready," Maggie returns.

"For what?" Rick inquires as I get to my feet, starting towards Clary.

"To fight them."

Carl looks up at her words, and I know immediately that he's in. "They have Daryl," Rick points out. "They have an army."

"We have Clary," I say. "We fix her up, and we all know she'll be ready to fight."

Rick looks down at her, then back up at me. "Do you really think that? Look at her and tell me she's in _any_ condition to fight." I go silent, unable to. "We would die. All of us."

"Go home," Maggie orders, her voice breaking as she continues. "Take everybody with you. I can get there by myself."

"You can barely stand up."

"I need to go. You need to get to Alexandria. You were out here for me."

"We still are."

At that, Maggie starts sobbing. "I can make it now. I need you to go back. I can't have you out here. I can't have you all out here anymore. I need you to go back."

Michonne and Sasha have gotten up by now, Michonne takin a few steps forward. "Maggie," she says. "We're not letting you go. Okay?"

"You have to," Maggie replies.

"It's not gonna happen," Rick says, shaking his head.

Sasha steps forward, up to Maggie. "I'm taking her," Sasha announces. "I'm gonna get her there. I'm gonna keep her safe. I'm not giving you a choice."

 _That goes for you, Clary. I'm gonna keep you safe, and you don't have a choice about it._

"I'm taking him with me," Maggie says, turning to Sasha. She groans as she gets to her knees beside Glenn's body, and Sasha turns to Rosita.

Rosita's silent, watching every move Sasha makes as she kneels beside Abraham's body. "I'm gonna take him," Sasha whispers. "That's what I'm gonna do."

Rosita nods, giving Sasha her permission. The two take each other's hands, resting them on Abraham's back. I step around them, making my way towards Maggie as Rick and Carl do the same. The only person that doesn't move is Clary, even as Eugene starts towards Abraham, Rosita, and Sasha. "I need to do this," Maggie sobs. "Please."

I rest a hand on her back, whispering, "We need to help you."

Carl reaches over my arm, resting his hand on her arm. "I got it," Carl says.

"No," Maggie murmurs.

"Please," Rick begs. "Please let us. He's our family, t—He's our family, too."

Carl helps Maggie up, and she turns to him, wrapping her arms around him as she sobs. She stands back as Carl, Rick, Michonne, and I carefully pick up Glenn's body, while Eugene, Rosita, and Sasha do the same with Abraham. Even as we move Glenn and Abraham, Clary remains in her spot. She's just sitting there, silent, baptized in the blood of her brother, a murder victim. Eugene, Sasha, and Rosita take Abraham away first, heading towards the RV. They're followed by Carl, Michonne, Rick, and I with Glenn. Carl, Michonne, and Rick take Glenn once we reach the RV, carrying him in. I pause outside the door, helping Maggie in. I look back at Clary, more worried about her than ever before. She suddenly doubles over, letting out a heartbroken, bloodcurdling scream. From the expressions of everyone else, I can tell they've never heard her make a sound like that, either. It rattles all of us almost as much as when we realized we weren't getting out of this one. Carl looks back towards his girlfriend, then down at the body of his brother in arms. "Aaron," he says.

"I got her," I promise him. They take the bodies into the RV while I return for Clary. I kneel beside her, glancing down at the bandana around her wrist. It was what allowed Carl to realize before any of us that we were being led into a trap, because he knew it was hers. It once belonged to Jesus, and it was now memorabilia of how we tried, and failed, to protect ourselves. "Hey, Clary? You with me?"

I reach forward to take her hand, and she immediately jerks back, hissing, "Don't touch me."

I hold up a hand. "Okay, okay. I won't. C'mon. It's time to go. We have to get Maggie to the Hilltop."

"Just leave me," Clary says, staring at the pools of blood.

"What?"

"Leave me lyin' here. Just go on. I want to die with them."

"Would Daryl want you to give up?"

"He's gone. He might as well be dead."

"Would Glenn want you to give up?"

She turns on me now, throwing a punch that knocks me back. "Don't you _ever_ fuckin' say his name!"

Clary's on her feet now, and I get up, looking down at her. I don't back down, hardly intimidated. "I'm not like the others, Cheyenne," I says softly. "You can't scare me. I told Daryl that if anything happened, I'd take care of you. So get your ass in the RV."

Clary looks down, turning towards the vehicle. She pauses at the steps, looking back at me a few feet behind her. "Aaron?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry." She looks at Maggie first, around at the others in the RV, and then back to Maggie. "I'm so sorry. He wanted to go back and I said no." She just gives up, starting to collapse, but I catch her before she can hit the ground. I pass her off to Rick in the RV, who makes her sit on the couch as I join her. She curls up beside me, whispering, "I tried, tried like hell. And it wasn't enough."


	3. 2: Hilltop

**Chapter 2: Hilltop**

 **~Aaron~**

The men on the wall recognize our RV as we pull up to the Hilltop, opening it immediately. One of them shouts, "Get Jesus!"

We pull into the Hilltop, Rick leading the way out. Up to the men on the gate, he calls, "Your doctor! Where is he?"

"Rick!" a voice I recognize as Jesus's calls, and I step out of the RV as he runs up. "Is everything okay?"

"The opposite of," Rick solemnly tells him. "We met Negan. Those Saviors at the compound, it was just an outpost. There's more."

Sasha helps Maggie out of the RV then, and Jesus pales when he sees the state Maggie's in, plus the fact that Glenn isn't with her. "You lost him," Jesus whispers.

"More than just Glenn," Rick murmurs. "Abraham's dead. He took Daryl."

One of the men climbs down from the watchpost, directing Sasha and Maggie to their doctor. Jesus pushes past me as he rushes into the RV, calling, "Clary!"

I follow him in, standing by the door. He stops in his tracks as he sees her sitting on the couch, pale and covered in blood. "Oh my god," he says, kneeling in front of her. "Clary? Hey? You in there?"

"Not for about fifteen miles," I say. "She hasn't moved since then. We think she's in shock." Jesus looks up at me. "I'm worried. I promised her brother I'd take care of her."

"She'll be okay," Jesus assures me, looking back to Clary. He rubs her arms, trying to warm her up. "You'll be okay, poppet. You have to be, for everyone out there. You've got strength, Clary. They need it."

Her eyes flick away from where she was staring at the wall, landing on Jesus in front of her. "Paul…"

"Hey," he says softly. "C'mon."

Jesus gets her to her feet, and she exits the RV between us. The others go back in, taking the bodies of Glenn and Abraham. Jesus points them to a clearing not too far away, promising, "We'll bury them. But Negan's going to be looking for you. You need to get back to Alexandria."

"We're not leaving until we know they're okay," Carl argues. "There's something wrong with Maggie's baby. And Clary was shot."

"I'll stay," I volunteer. "Sasha's staying for Maggie. I need to be here for Clary."

"She's in good hands," Rick says. "You don't have to…"

"I do. Look, I promised Daryl a long time ago that if anything happened to him, I'd take care of her. They have him. It's up to me now." I look down at Rick. "Go. I'll stay with her. She needs a doctor. We'll be back soon."

Rick's silent for a long time, then steps forward. He kneels in front of Clary, taking her hands. "Clary, I don't know if you can hear me," he says. "But, um, I think you saved my life last night. You took a risk, you stepped up. Thank you."

She doesn't move as Rick stands, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Be careful." He looks at Jesus and I. "She's in your hands. They both are." Rick extends a hand, which I shake. "Take care of her."

"I already am," I reply.

He turns away, starting back to the RV. "Let's go. It'll be dark soon."

Carl steps forward before they go, kissing Clary's cheek. He frowns when she doesn't respond whatsoever, completely silent, still in some kind of shock. Carl turns, walks away, and joins the others in the RV. We watch as they leave, and Jesus looks down at Clary. "You were shot?" he demands. "Who? I'm gonna kill 'em."

"Dwight," Clary says, speaking now. "Duel."

"When?"

"Yesterday."

"And it's been untreated all this time?" She nods. "You're going to Harlan. No ifs, ands, or buts."

"No."

"You're going to Harlan, Cheyenne. End of story."

"I don't trust him."

Jesus pauses, looking back at her. "You don't trust him?"

"I trust you. Not him. Will you…"

Jesus nods in understanding. "Second floor, first room on the right. It's a spare room with a working bathroom. I'll meet you there. Aaron, draw a bath for her."

Jesus takes off for Harlan's, while I take Clary up to the mansion in the middle of the Hilltop. We enter the first room on the right of the second floor, Clary shrugging her jacket off. For the first time, I see how much blood is on her shoulder and shirt. I find the bathroom after the second try, opening the closet on the first, and kneel, drawing Clary a bath to wash off the blood. I return to find that Jesus has arrived, speaking quietly to Clary. "I'm gonna go check on Maggie," I tell them, pausing when I pass Jesus. "Take care of her."

"You got it," he promises.

* * *

 **~Jesus~**

After dropping in Harlan's for medicine, I stop by my trailer, digging in my dresser for a shirt that wouldn't be _too_ large on her. I know there's no way she'd want to stay in those clothes. I don't even bother trying to find a pair of pants because while Clary might be able to wear my shirts, there's no way in hell she can wear my pants. As soon as I have one that looks like it'll fit her, I take off for Barrington.

I slow to a halt as I enter the spare room, Aaron in the bathroom and Clary leaning back against the bedframe. I see all the blood, more than I thought there would be, on her shirt and shoulder. I breathe, "Holy shit."

Clary glances over at the sound of my voice, glancing at the shirt in my hand. "I, uh, I figured you'd want to change out of those clothes," I quietly say, stepping towards her. "It's my shirt, so it's not really for comfort, but I found one that you might like. I don't have any pants that'll fit you. I can go get—"

"No," Clary objects before I can even finish. "Stay."

"Okay," I say, nodding. "I'll stay."

I glance over at Aaron as he steps out of the bathroom. "I'm gonna go check on Maggie," he announces as he heads for the door. He pauses when he reaches me, resting his hand on my shoulder. "Take care of her."

"You got it," I promise. Aaron leaves, and I step into the bathroom. I put my shirt on the counter and grab a towel for Clary before shutting off the water, the bathtub nearly full. "Soap and shampoo are in the tub."

Clary looks up at me, whispering, "Thank you."

I nod, walking back into my room as I tell her, "I'll be right outside the door. Let me know if you need anything, poppet."

Clary starts into the bathroom, then pauses, looking back at me. "Why do you call me that? 'Poppet?'"

"It's a term of endearment," I answer. "Just something you call younger girls." I close the door between us, leaning my head against it as I tell her, "I'm right here."

A few minutes later, I hear Clary ask, "Paul?"

"Yeah?" I question.

"You got stuff for my shoulder, right?"

"I grabbed some supplies while Aaron brought you up. I'll fix you up."

"I don't think I can be fixed," Clary says quietly, thinking I can't hear her through the closed door.

From inside, I hear Clary let out a sharp hiss of pain. "Everything okay?"

"Shoulder," she replies as I take a seat by the door. I hear the water being drained a few minutes later, and the door suddenly opens a few minutes after that. I fall back, catching myself on the doorframe. Clary watches me in silence, holding her arm.

"Better?" I ask. She nods, taking a seat on the bed. "Where were you shot?" Clary gestures to her right shoulder. "You trust me enough to take your shirt off? So I can see what I'm doing?"

Clary nods, and I get up, washing my hands while she takes off her shirt, sitting on the bed in a bra and jeans. She sits so I can stand behind her at the side of the bed, holding my shirt over her chest as she remembers that I wouldn't look at her earlier with her shirt unbuttoned. "You know, you'd make Lady Godiva proud," Clary says as I make my way over.

"'Lady Godiva,'" I scoff, shaking my head at her. I put my supplies on the bedside dresser, then turn to Clary. I finally see her back for the first time, sharply inhaling as I take it in. "Whoa," I breathe. "No wonder you're such a tough ass. Your parents did this?"

"Just my father," Clary answers. "Mom died when I was young. I don't remember her, but I do know it's because of her that I can't have kids."

"You… you can't have kids?" Clary shakes her head. "That sucks. But I guess it's also one less thing to worry about, huh?"

She nods. "That's how I've always thought of it."

"Your dad… he did all of this?"

"All but three."

"'All but three?'" I repeat as I get started on her shoulder.

"There was a man. Called himself the Governor. I killed him, 'bout four months back. But a while before that, my brother kidnapped a few of us. Uh, not Daryl. We had another brother, Merle. Worked for the Governor. Took Glenn and Maggie, then me when I went in to rescue them."

"Kidnapped by your own brother."

"That was the first time. Happened again later on, but that's another story. Anyway, the Governor wanted information on our group, our home. We had a prison we took from the walkers, made it ours. Had fences, beds, food. Guns. Everything we needed. But he wanted us out. He thought it was his turf, knew we were a threat. So he tortured us. Merle beat the shit outta Glenn. Governor terrified Maggie. Waterboarded me. Twice, and I didn't cave. Then, he beat me. Just like Will used to. That's how I got the other three."

"And you never caved?"

"No, I caved after that. I mean, it wasn't the beating. I took that for 'em. It wasn't anythin' new to me. I've shed blood for this group so many times and I'm still willin' to bleed. Governor knew I wasn't gonna break like that. So he threatened Glenn's life. That's what broke me. The thought of something happenin' to him." Clary bows her head, swallowing back sobs. To herself, she mutters, "C'mon, get your shit together. Don't cry. Dixons don't cry."

"It's okay to," I tell her, taking a seat behind her as I finish with her shoulder. "I'm not going to judge you. You lost a brother today. Let it out, poppet."

"I lost two," she mournfully says. "And I lost a good friend. Glenn and Abe, and Daryl's as good as dead. Hell, it's probably be better if he was." Clary breathes out a shaky sigh. "I've got no one left to love."

I wrap an arm around her waist, resting my chin on her uninjured shoulder. "You've still got Carl," I say.

"Do I?" she questions. "After yesterday… I said I should've left when I had the chance, back in Georgia. And then he told me not to come home."

"What about Aaron?" I try.

"What about him?" Clary asks, laughing without humor. "He loves Eric. Aaron's got all he needs."

"Don't dismiss yourself so quickly," I tell her. "And you got me."

"I barely know you."

"Doesn't matter. I'm here, aren't I?"

Clary falls silent, shushing me when I open my mouth to speak. She hisses, "Someone's coming."

I get to my feet as Clary puts her shirt on, taking a fighting stance as the door opens. Aaron takes a step in before pausing, looking at the two of us. He asks, "I'm not interrupting, am I?"

I lower my fists, shaking my head. "No, you're fine. Coming in?"

Aaron steps inside, telling us, "Everything's looking okay with Maggie."

"That's good," I say, giving him a small grin. "Her baby's okay?"

He nods. "It's looking like it."

We turn as Clary gets up, sliding her feet into her boots. "I'm gonna walk around a little bit," she tells us. "I gotta get some fresh air."

"Don't go outside the walls," Aaron tells her.

"I won't," she promises, glancing down at her shoulder. "Ain't got a chance out there with a bum shoulder."

"Hey," I say, and she pauses. "Don't go after him."

"I won't. I promise, I won't go after him."

Clary steps out into the hall around us, walking off. I look to Aaron, who watches her disappear with a look of worry on her face. "You okay?" I ask him.

Aaron shakes his head. "We lost a lot. Some really important people. Friends, brothers, lovers. They were something to each of us."

"I'm sorry."

"It's funny that people say that, don't you think?" Aaron questions. "How they say 'I'm sorry' when something happens. Like as if it was their fault. I'll never understand why people always apologize for things that aren't their fault."

"That's an interesting way to look at it, sure," I agree. "But I think that's it's a way of empathizing."

There's a long silence before Aaron looks to me. "I have to ask. Is your name really Jesus?"

"No," I say, shaking my head. "Paul Rovia. My friends used to call me Jesus."

"Because of the hair and beard? Or was the hair and beard a result?"

I chuckle. "Because of it. I grew it out for _Jesus Christ Superstar._ "

"I take it you played Jesus?"

"No, I played Mary."

"Oh, shut up."

"Yeah, the others really got a kick out of it when Alex came to one of the shows. They started calling me Gay Jesus after that."

"Probably lucky Clary didn't hear you say that." I instantly pale, knowing she's from Georgia. Aaron catches my look and elaborates, "You'll never hear the end of it. She won't let 'Gay Jesus' die. She still calls Eric my 'damsel in distress.'" Aaron glances out the window, then back to me. "It's been a while. She should've been back by now."

I close my eyes, sighing. "Goddammit, Clary."

"I promised Daryl I'd look after her, and I'm doing a shit job," Aaron remarks, stepping out into the hallway. We split up, searching the Hilltop in a frenzy to find Clary. She couldn't have gone far, and there's only a limited number of places she could be. I return to Barrington House, climbing up to the attic. Looking out the windows from there, I can see all of the Hilltop, plus for a ways in the surrounding area. "Paul!" Aaron suddenly shouts, sounding like he's on the first floor.

At my name, I know he's found Clary. I run down the stairs, sliding on the rug at the bottom. "Sasha?" I question, seeing her leaning against the wall by the door. "Aaron asked you to help look for her?" She nods. "Where is she?"

Sasha gestures to Gregory's office with a nod of her head. Aaron tells me, "She won't open the door for anyone. Locked herself in."

I step past them, testing the door handle to see if it's been unlocked since they last tried, but it hasn't. I lean against the door, gently knocking. "Clary?" I call. "Clary, it's me. Open the door, will you?" I lower my voice, so the others won't hear but she still can. "Please. I'm worried about you."

I shake my head to the two when I get no response, and Sasha suggests, "We could kick it down."

"No," Aaron objects, beating me by a second. "No. You kick open that door, you're trapping her like a wild animal. No telling how she'd react. You can't use force."

I reach in my pocket, feeling for the bobby pins I keep to pick locks. I'm aware of the others watching, and as I lean down to pick it, Aaron says, "Looks like Clary's not the only one that can pick locks."

"You'd be surprised how much we have in common," I reply, glancing up at him. "Got it."

Aaron starts forward, and I hold up a hand. "No," I tell him. "Just me. No telling how she'd react if all of us went in. You've gotta treat her like a wounded, frightened animal. I'll talk her down." Under my breath, I add, "It's not like I haven't before."

I open the door just enough to slip inside, and gently close it behind me. The only light in the room is what's coming from the moon through the windows, and I make my way across the room with that. I find her curled up on the end of the couch. "Clary?" I whisper, kneeling by her head. "Clary?"

She doesn't answer, instead keeping her eyes shut, and after a moment, I realize that she's fallen asleep. I shrug off my coat as I stand, draping it over her as gently as I can. "It's alright," I tell her, taking a seat at the opposite end of the couch. "I'm right here. No, no, I take that back. It's not okay. But I will be right here, Clary."

It's not very long after that when she starts murmuring words in her sleep. I can't tell what they are, but by her tone, I know she's not dreaming about puppies and rainbows. I climb off the couch, kneeling by Clary in an attempt to hear what she was saying. " _Please, not him. No, take me! Take me! No! Kill me!"_

I freeze, the horror washing over me as I think that these have to be the words she cried as Glenn and Abraham were murdered. As they were brutally killed right beside her, in front of her, Glenn's blood splattering onto her. Oh, she doesn't need to relive this.

"Clary!" I hiss, trying to shake her awake. "Clary, wake up! Dammit!"

In her sleep, she tries to fight me off, and I pin her arms down, now leaning over her. "Clary," I say. "Listen to me. Wake up. It's Paul. I'm not going to hurt you."

" _Stop!"_ Clary cries out, and I release one of her arms to grab her shoulder, shaking her.

"Clary, please!" I plead, and it seems to do the trick. Clary wakes, her breathing erratic as she continues to fight me. "It's Paul, it's okay! I'm not gonna hurt you!" She stops fighting as she takes in her surroundings, me leaning over her. "Clary? You with me?"

She doesn't speak, unable to get any words out. I release her arms, taking a seat back on the couch. It takes a long time, but she finally manages, " _Daryl."_

"I know, I know," I whisper, watching as she pulls my coat tighter around herself. "He's a fighter. He's going to be fine. We'll get him back."

"That's not it," Clary whispers, pulling her knees up to her chest. I hold out an arm, and she immediately crawls over, curling up beside me. "It was Will."

"Will?" I question.

"Our father. I saw him… He was Negan."

"In your dream?"

"He chose Daryl. I―I begged him not to, begged him to take me, but Will still killed him."

"I'm so sorry," I whisper. "They're both everything to you."

Clary wraps an arm around me, then moves around so she's sitting in my lap, curling up against my chest, her head resting on my shoulder. I pull my coat around her again, and she mumbles, "You're so warm."

"I've been told," I reply, leaning back on the couch so she'll be more comfortable as she leans into me.

"Paul?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't let me go."

"Never," I promise her. "I won't let go, poppet." There's a knock on the door, and I look down at Clary. "Now, I said I wouldn't let you go, but do you mind if I get up and answer the door?"

Clary pulls away from me, getting to her feet and pulling my coat around her. I make my way towards the door, leaning against the doorframe as I open it. "Aaron?" I question, seeing him on the other side.

"Is everything okay?" he questions. "I'm, uh, I'm worried about her. Sasha is, too."

"I know," I reply, glancing at her over my shoulder. "I'm not gonna lie. She's not okay. I don't think she will be again. But I'm going to stay with her. I… I think it might be best if she's not around a lot of people right now. She'll snap in a heartbeat."

Aaron nods. "You're right. She stepped up, she did everything she could, but it wasn't enough. I mean, she even took the reins from Rick. She's our leader now. To Negan and the Saviors, at least, if it's just a front. But they think we're being led by her, and that's putting a lot more pressure on her. More than what was on her before. I don't know if Negan believes it, but I don't think he gives a shit either way. As long as he has someone to threaten."

I look down at my feet, unsure if I want to ask. I lift my eyes to Aaron's, asking, "You think this will be the thing that sends her over the edge?"

"I don't know. And if it doesn't, then I'd hate to see what does. She's saving her anger, keeping it inside. It's what she's done before. She's gonna bottle it up until the final showdown. That's when all hell breaks loose, and the Dixons lead it." Aaron steps back, away from the door. "I think you should get back to her. She shouldn't be left alone right now."

"Yeah," I agree, watching him walk back to Sasha before I close the door. I turn back, heading towards the couch. "That was Aaron. He wanted—" I cut myself off as I see that the window's open, and Clary's gone. "Oh, shit."

I turn on my heel, throwing open the door and not bothering to close it behind me. "Jesus?" Aaron questions. "Hey, what's going on?"

"She's gone," I answer, opening the front door and taking off. I don't wait to see if they heard me or not, I just know I have to find her. I stop along the path, turning in every direction as I look for her. _Shit, where would she be? She's not stupid enough to leave, but after last night, I don't know. Okay, okay, she's gonna be fine, you've gotta calm down and get your bearings. Where would she go? What would Clary do?_ "Glenn," I mutter to myself. "Glenn's most likely. That's where she'd go. She's not stupid enough to go after Daryl, not in her condition."

"Jesus!" Aaron shouts, and I turn to find him out the door, running after me. "Hey! Answer me! What's going on?"

"You didn't see her?" I question. "Clary!"

"Jesus?"

"She's gone. I was with her in the Barrington House, and I left for a minute to talk to you. She gave us the slip. I can't find her. I don't know where she is."

"Oh, my god," Aaron breathes, closing his eyes. He suddenly opens them, looking down at me with true fear. "Jesus, where's your gun?"

I reach behind me, eyes widening when I find that it's gone. "She took it."

"Oh, no," Aaron chokes out, and I put out an arm, steadying him. "Jesus…"

"Aaron, what? What is it?"

"She's either going after Negan, or… or…"

Aaron stops, unable to go on, but I understand what he means. "I'm gonna find her, Aaron," I promise him. "I swear to you, I'll find her before it's too late."

* * *

 **~Clary~**

I don't know what I was expecting when I made the choice to ditch Jesus and run for Glenn and Abraham. Was I expecting them to miraculously be alive? Was I expecting their corpses to not look the way they did when we brought them with us? The way it did when Glenn finally fell next to me, his blood pooling around his head, the rest of it splattered onto me. I slowly reach up, touching where the blood dried on my cheek, my neck. I just didn't have it in me to wipe it off, sitting in a shocked silence as we made our way to the Hilltop. No one made a move to come near me, except Aaron. Everyone else kept to themselves as Maggie cried over Glenn's body, as Sasha and Rosita cried over Abraham. As we worried about Daryl, silently plotting revenge on Negan.

"I want to wake up now, Glenn," I whisper, the only thing I'm able to say. I fall to my knees next to him, a sobbing mess as I think about everything we did together. Everything that happened to us. Oh, he didn't deserve any of that. Not my Glenn, the one too pure for the world we were living in. And I tried to protect him, I really did. But I failed at that, just like I've failed everyone else. I reach underneath Jesus' coat for the gun I stole from him, looking down at the weapon in my hands. It's a Colt, a series 70. Oh, it's ironic, I suppose, that it's the same kind of gun that Glenn used. I flip the safety off, crying softly as I put the gun to my temple. I just want this to be over. " _I'm sorry."_

" _Please, don't,"_ a voice behind me pleads, causing me to freeze. "Don't do that, Clary."

I slowly turn at the voice I thought I'd never hear again, staring up at him. He can't be here. He's dead.

"I know," Glenn says. "I mean, I know what you're thinking. I shouldn't be here. Yeah, I'm dead. Nothing's going to change that. I'm dead because of Negan." Glenn kneels beside me, gently placing a hand on top of the gun. "Please, don't end your life. I'm so sorry for leaving here without you."

I follow his movements as he pushes the gun down, struggling to form any words. After a long moment, I whisper, "Let me join you."

Glenn immediately shakes his head. "No. No. I may be gone, but I can't take you joining me. It's too early for you."

"You've still gotta kick Negan's ass for us," Abraham tells me, resting his hand between my shoulderblades as he kneels on my other side.

"Abe?" I whisper.

"Hey, little missy," he says, ruffling my hair. "You're doing pretty good, you know? You can do this."

"I can't."

"You have to," Glenn says. "You don't have a choice, not anymore. That's what you told me, after the outpost. If it wasn't us, it was gonna be them. We didn't have a choice, and neither do you."

"It's time to nut up or shut up," Abraham adds. "That's what I've always said."

"That's from _Zombieland_ ," I point out. "And you said 'suck my nuts.' I have to give you props for that. It's the most Abraham-est thing you could've said." Abe chuckles before falling silent, the two looking down at their bodies. "I'm so sorry, you two. I should've listened. We should've turned back. Now you're dead, and Daryl might as well be."

"Cheyenne!" I turn in surprise at Jesus's shout. I look back to Glenn and Abraham, only to find that they've disappeared. Jesus kneels beside me, placing a hand over the gun I hold. "Give me the gun, poppet."

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

"It's okay. Just give me the gun." I allow Jesus to take it, and he tucks it under his belt before taking my hands. "You scared us, taking off like that."

"I'm sorry," I repeat.

"You okay?" Jesus asks. I shake my head. Without another word, Jesus picks me up, still wrapped in his coat. He presses me against his chest, and I wrap my arms and legs around him, resting my head on his shoulder. Jesus lets out a chuckle, glancing down at me as he carries me to a trailer that I'm assuming to be his. "You're like a koala. Koala Dixon."

"It's better than poppet," I murmur.

"You don't like 'poppet'?" Jesus inquires.

"No, I do," I say. "I just can't _not_ think of _Pirates of the Caribbean."_

"You do remind me of Jack Sparrow," Jesus says. He carries me inside, putting me down on his bed. He grabs a spare pillow, tossing it on the floor, along with his coat after I take it off. "Is that okay, me on the floor?" Jesus questions when I look up at him. I don't really process his words, giving him a blank look in response. "I-I mean, I can stay somewhere else. I just figured—"

"Yeah, no," I rush, shaking my head. "I… I don't want to be alone."

Jesus nods. "Okay. I'll stay."

I lay back in his bed as Jesus shuts the light off, lying on the floor. I don't close my eyes, both of us silent for a long time. Eventually, I ask, "Can you just come up here?"

Jesus gets up, laying down on top of the blankets beside me. I lay on my back, looking up at the ceiling. "Negan, he won't come for you in here," he tells me.

"You don't know that," I whisper. "We don't."

Jesus turns on his side, facing me. "Hey."

I tilt my head, looking towards him. "Yeah?"

"I won't let him get to you. I swear I won't, poppet."

"Thank you," I whisper, closing my eyes as tears leak out of them.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Jesus whispers, wiping away the tears that fell. "No, I take that back. It's not okay, things aren't alright. But we'll figure it out. We will. We have to."

"Paul?" I question, pushing myself closer to him.

"Yeah?"

"Can you… just, hold me?"

He wraps an arm around me, gently brushing my hair back. "Of course, poppet." Jesus kisses my forehead. "Now, c'mon. Try and get some sleep, okay? I'll be right here. I won't leave."

"Promise?"

"Promise," he swears.

* * *

Aaron and Sasha help me pick a spot to bury Glenn and Abraham. It's a nice spot, somewhat close to the wall, but it's under a willow tree, just like Tyreese. I do what I can to help dig, but it isn't much with my shoulder. _Huh. I buried Sasha's brother, and now she's burying mine._ I turn as I hear footsteps approach, seeing the same woman that punched Rick the last time we were here. She demands, "What the hell are you doing?"

The others turn at the sound of her voice, and Aaron tells her, "We're burying our friends."

"We don't bury our dead," she says. "We burn them."

"That's not how we do it," I say, shaking my head. "It's not."

"We _burn_ them. End of story."

"We _don't_ burn them! We bury them!" I cry, remembering Glenn's words in Atlanta. My voice even cracks halfway through, just like his did. I take a breath, steadying my voice. "We're burying my brothers. 'Cause I ain't burnin' 'em."

"Crystal," Jesus says, arriving now. "Let 'em do it. They've helped us."

"Is that what it is?" Crystal demands. "'Cause it looks like they just pissed off the Saviors to me!"

I step forward, punching her. "That's from Rick." She looks down at me, her temper flaring. I punch her again, knocking her on her ass. "That's from me, 'cause you pissed off the Saviors first. We wouldn't've had a problem if you hadn't. We wouldn't've _lost_ people if you hadn't. We wouldn't have lost brothers, friends. Sasha wouldn't have lost a boyfriend. Maggie wouldn't have lost a _husband!_ Their _unborn child_ would have a fuckin' _father!_ " Jesus steps towards me, taking my arm to prevent me from punching the bitch again. "So you get the fuck outta here and don't you _ever_ let me see your sorry ass again!"

Crystal looks to Jesus, offended and expecting him to stick up for her. Instead, he growls out a single word. " _Leave."_

She turns and storms away, probably off to tattle to Gregory, who still doesn't like us. Jesus looks down at me, remarking, "You got a damn mouth on you, you know that? What else you got?"

For once, my answer is completely serious. "A talent for killin' people."

* * *

The door to the infirmary is opened before I can even finish knocking. "Doctor Carson," I say, seeing the man himself.

"Clary Dixon," he says, remembering me. "You can call me Harlan, you know." I shrug, then wince. "How's the shoulder?"

"Hurts like a bitch, but it's good," I say, nodding. "Jesus knows what he's doing."

"What can I do for you?"

"We're getting ready to go back to Alexandria. I was hoping I could see Maggie?"

"She's sleeping, but you can come in," Harlan tells me, stepping aside to allow me in. He leads me to Maggie's bed, and I notice flowers sitting on her bedside table. Harlan notices me looking at them. "Jesus brought them."

"He's a good man," I say. Harlan nods in agreement before leaving to give me time alone with Maggie. I kneel by her side, closing my eyes for a moment. I look up at her sleeping form, telling her, "I'm so sorry. I tried to protect Glenn. I always have. I couldn't, not when it mattered most. It should've been me. But it wasn't, so all I can do is avenge him. I promise you, Maggie, I will. No matter what it takes. I'll avenge Glenn."

I get up, pressing a kiss to her forehead as I whisper, "Stay safe, mamacita."

I walk out, giving Sasha a quick goodbye hug as she enters, and meet up with Aaron and Jesus by the gate. "Jesus," I say, taking his arm. "Will you watch over her?"

"Of course," he promises, wrapping me in a hug. I mirror him, and he kisses my forehead. "Stay safe out there, Clary." He looks over my shoulder. "That goes for you, too, Aaron."

Aaron chuckles, and I hug Jesus tighter. "Thank you again," I whisper. "For everythin'. I wouldn't be here without you."

* * *

Aaron and I are greeted by Eric and Carl running to meet us as we return to Alexandria, having stopped on the way back from the Hilltop to retrieve my motorcycle from the train tracks. Eric reaches us first, being the closest, wrapping his arms around Aaron and kissing him. Carl's not far behind, nearly sobbing in relief that I'm home. "You okay?" he whispers.

"Gotta be," I reply. My go-to answer. I don't have any choice but to be okay.

Carl kisses my cheek. "I'll tell the others you're back."

He releases me, running off to get his father. Eric suddenly takes my arm, pulling me over to him and Aaron. I'm nearly squished between the two, but I hug them back. "Why don't you come live with us for a while?" Aaron offers. "I know you and Carl had that fight. I promised Daryl I'd look after you."

"I, um," I start, then trail off, unsure. "I don't know."

"Just know you're always welcome," Eric tells me. "We've got an extra room anytime."

I pull back, looking up at the two. "Thank you."

"Clary!" Rick cries, and I step back as he runs down the street to meet us. He picks me up in a hug, tightly wrapping his arms around me. I know I'm not getting out of this anytime soon, so I do the same, wrapping my legs around his waist. "Oh, you're home." He looks over my shoulder, holding an arm out for Aaron. While he doesn't join us in the embrace, he rests his hand on Rick's shoulder. "You're back. You're here."

"We're here," Aaron tells him. He steps away a moment later, returning to Eric and leaving Rick and I alone. I untangle myself from Rick, not meeting his eyes.

"What's wrong?" Rick questions, looking down at me. "I can sense it. There's something wrong."

I hesitate for a moment before admitting, "I saw Glenn and Abraham. I-I-I know they weren't real, but… it was so damn real. I could _feel_ 'em."

It doesn't phase Rick at all. "When Lori died, I saw her, too," he tells me. "It's okay, Clary." He wraps his arms around me, one hand on the back of my neck. His voice drops to a whisper as he says, "It's okay. You have to let yourself work through it. You have to give yourself time."

"I can't. We're getting ready to go to war. I can't take time away from the front lines."

"We're not at war yet, Clary. We're gonna be okay." Rick takes a step back, keeping one hand on my arm as he studies me. "You okay?"

I answer, "My heart's still beating."


	4. 3: A Bigger World

**Chapter 3: A Bigger World**

 **~Daryl~**

I lose track of time in the cell. All I know is that it's dark, and I'm cold, naked, and missing my family. I want my baby sister, but after that night, I doubt she'd even look at me. I don't even know how long it's been. I know some amount of time has passed when the door opens, Dwight stepping through with a plate. He lowers it so I can reach it from my spot on the ground, and I take the sandwich as I become aware of how hungry I am. I take a bit of it, surprised but yet not at all when I taste dog food. I was expecting something disgusting since I'm their prisoner, but I didn't know what it would be. Dwight looks slightly surprised that I'm actually eating it, but he doesn't realize how hungry I am. I haven't eaten since before he killed Denise, and trying to recover from being shot takes a lot of energy. Dwight turns and leaves, and I see he's wearing my vest before he shuts the door, plunging me into darkness again.

It's the same routine for I don't know how long, that godforsaken song blasting every second I'm awake. I sleep only when it stops, and it wakes me whenever Dwight starts it back up again.

 _We're on Easy Street  
_ _And it feels so sweet  
_ ' _Cause the world is but a treat  
_ _When you're on Easy Street_

After four meals, Dwight doesn't hold a plate and wait for me to take the sandwich anymore. Instead, he throws it on the ground beside me, waits for me to pick it up, and then tosses a bundle of clothes at me. He closes the door as I grab the clothes, feeling them. They're sweats, and I don't waste any time putting them on.

The next time Dwight opens the door, he's not bringing food. Instead, he carries my crossbow in one hand, stepping into the cell. He grabs me by the back of my shirt, forcing me out of the cell and into a hallway. Dwight pushes me down the hall, two men like me stepping aside for us. I do what I can to memorize the route, memorize everything in the hallway and rooms we pass. Dwight pushes me through a door as he says, "Carson."

Dwight pauses when he sees a brunette woman sitting on the exam table, and I recognize her as Sherry, the girl from the burned forest. The doctor, Carson, says, "We were just finishing up."

"Chop, chop," Dwight says as Sherry slides off the table.

She nervously smoothes her dress, shifting from one foot to the other. "Hi, D."

"Hey," he replies.

I look down as Sherry looks to me. "Daryl, right?"

"Don't talk to him," Dwight orders. He shoves me forward, and I take a seat on the table. My eyes are drawn to a pregnancy test on the stand beside me, and Dwight sees it, too.

"It's negative," Sherry says when she sees him looking at it.

"Well, maybe next time."

"Sorry," Carson apologizes. "Still getting used to being my own assistant."

"Whatever they say, just do it," Sherry tells me.

"I said, don't talk to him," Dwight repeats.

Carson pulls aside the collar of my shirt, looking at the wound in my shoulder. "It'll get better, if you let it," he tells me. "Negan will take care of you. Trust me."

It's not long after we leave, Dwight pushing me back through the halls in the same way as before. He forces me to kneel as Negan arrives, Lucille in hand. "Dwighty boy," Negan says, seeing him. He looks to the other people in the hall. "I need to talk to my associate for a minute. Go about your business." Negan turns to a man behind him. "Except for you. Fat Joey, stand right there."

Negan walks off, and Dwight pushes me into a chair across from the Savior. Dwight follows Negan, while Fat Joey aims a gun at me. The door across from me was left open, and I see a small apartment inside. Dwight returns not long after, but instead of taking me to the cell, he takes me outside. From where I stand, I watch men like me take on walkers outside the fence. One man struggles against one, and Dwight aims my crossbow, firing and killing the walker. My crossbow, the one that Clary saw and took for me because she thought I'd like it.

Dwight turns to me, telling me, "You know, I think I'm getting the hang of this thing." He notices I'm looking down, and grabs me by the back of my neck, shoving me against the chain link fence. He points to the men outside, dressed exactly like me. "That's you, asshole. Unless you're smart. Your choice. You could be like them or me. Which would you choose? Which would your little Clary rather you choose? Make it easy on yourself."

"I ain't never gonna kneel," I reply.

"Yeah, I said that, too."

I look over at him. "Yeah, I know."

Dwight sighs. "See, that's the thing. You don't, but you're gonna."

"I ain't never gonna kneel."

* * *

 **~Carol~**

"Doctor says you're healing up," Morgan says as he pushes me through the settlement, on our way to meet with the leader. "Said it could've been much worse, but you had some luck. And your pack with the weapons, they wanted to lock 'em up. Seeing as they were helping us, I didn't argue." I look around, at the gazebo with children learning, at the gardens and animals. "It'll be with them until we're ready to leave. I figure that'll be another week, maybe a little more, and then we can start back to Alexandria."

"What is this place?" I question.

"Well, the people here, they call this place 'the Kingdom.' They were helping you, so I've been helping them." We pass a corral, where one of the members of the Kingdom, a young man not much older than Clary, leads a younger boy around on a horse. Morgan and the young man wave as they pass each other, and I look over my shoulder up at Morgan. "That's Benjamin."

"Did you tell them about what happened to me, about who we are?" I inquire.

"Why? Who are we, Carol?"

"What did you tell them?"

"They saw what that man did to you, and they saw what I did to him. We got split up. You found trouble. I found you. That is all he knows."

"All who knows?"

"The man I'm taking you to see, the person who's in charge of this place."

"This person have a name?" I ask, and Morgan pauses before we enter the auditorium. "Morgan?"

"Yeah," he answers. "He, um… he's called 'King Ezekiel."

"What?" I question.

"Yeah. King Ezekiel. Um, he does his own thing. See?"

"Uh, what does that mean?" I inquire as Morgan pushes me down towards the stage.

"Well…" Morgan trails off as we reach the last row of seats, and I have to pinch my leg to make sure I'm not dreaming when the tiger growls. "Here we are. Yeah. I, uh, I forgot to say that Ezekiel has a tiger."

"How can you forgot that he has a _tiger?"_

* * *

 **~Morgan~**

"The swine are slaughtered far from the Kingdom," Ezekiel tells me when he sees me looking at them in the back of a truck, "lest their screams carry in the wind and invite questions. What we are doing here is a secret I keep from my people. Some see secrets as a privilege of ruling. They are burdens, they are not part of the reward. They are the cost."

"I know someone that would probably agree," I say, thinking of all the times I've seen Clary discuss something with Rick behind closed doors. I remember how tired she'd always look afterwards, especially after their slaughter of the Saviors in the compound. "They _are_ burdens."

We turn as brakes squeal, two vehicles pulling into the parking lot. A group of men climb out, the one I'm assuming to be the leader saying, "Here I was, worried we were early."

"Our arrangement is something I consider with the utmost seriousness, Gavin," Ezekiel says, stepping forward to meet him. "We will fulfill our obligations on time, every time."

"Yes, indeedy, you do and you will." Gavin looks inside the truck. "I count eight, that's good. They look bigger than last time, that's good, too."

"They were well fed," Richard, one of Ezekiel's men, says. It's then that I understand why he fed walkers to the pigs. It's a way to get back at these men for taking resources that should belong to the Kingdom. At the same time, I realize that Clary's mission, her raid on the Saviors' compound, was fruitless because there are more than she ever knew.

"We appreciate your hospitality," Gavin says, looking over at him. "Lucky for us, we brought two trucks. How about you help us load 'em up?"

"They're part of another group," Dianne, an archer and member of Ezekiel's inner circle, tells me under her breath. "They call themselves the—"

"I know who they are," I say, cutting her off before she can say their name. The Saviors.

* * *

"Whoa, whoa, hey," Benjamin says as his little brother, Henry, gets up from the table we sit at. "Where you going?"

"It's movie night tonight," Henry replies. "I wanna get a good seat."

"Right, but you were gonna clean your plate first, though," Benjamin says, eyeing the uneaten broccoli on his little brother's plate. Henry sighs, clearly not happy. "C'mon, that was the deal." Henry eats the broccoli, chewing in a way that Benjamin can't miss it. "Wow, good one, smart guy." I look down at my plate, trying not to laugh. "Alright, well, just be in bed by ten. Not a minute later."

"But I can read?" Henry inquires.

"Yes, you can read."

Henry walks off, and Benjamin and I look at each other, chuckling. "He's a good kid," I remark.

"Yeah, yeah, he is," Benjamin agrees. "I only kinda know what I'm doing, raising him."

"Back home, I knew a girl. Clary, her name is. It was her older brother, Daryl, that raised her."

"I wish I could ask him what the secret is." I chuckle at his statement, and he cracks a grin. "No, actually, Ezekiel's been a big help."

"You seem close. You and the king."

"Yeah, he was pretty tight with my dad. My father was a good fighter. One of the best in the Kingdom."

"How'd it happen?"

"It was about a year ago. Ezekiel sent his detachment out to clear out a building. There were too many wasted and not enough backup. Eight men didn't make it out. My father was one of 'em. But Ezekiel, he's a lot more careful now. He told me that it, uh, well…" Benjamin takes the seat Henry was sitting in, leaning across the table and lowering his voice. "He told me he was keeping the deal with that group quiet 'cause he thinks that people would want to fight. He says that even if we did, we wouldn't win. At least, not without losing people. Maybe a lot of 'em."

"Clary Dixon, she's in charge of our defense. She's a great fighter. She'd agree, but she'd say it's a chance you'd have to take." I look up at Benjamin. "You think he's right, that we shouldn't fight?"

"I don't know," Benjamin says, looking down at his hands. "I mean, I don't know if I know enough to know." I chuckle as Benjamin looks back up at me. "Maybe you do."

* * *

 **~Dwight~**

I look over at Negan as he joins me at the balcony overlooking the warehouse floor. A little ways away, I can hear Daryl as he pounds against the door to his cell. "He is going ape-shit!" Negan remarks.

"Yep," I say.

"And you? You are hustling. It's working. It's working slow, but, hey, man, some people are harder to crack than others."

"Yeah, he's close," I tell him.

"Yeah, he is."

"It's his sister," I say, leaning back against the railing. "He'd do anything for her. She's the key to breaking him."

"The tiger?" Negan questions, glancing over at me. He nods, thinking of their actions the night we stopped their group. "Yeah, I think you're right. He _was_ ready to die for her. She'll do anything for him, too. We'll see what we can do about her."

"Yeah, look at what I found in his vest pocket." I reach into the same pocket with the polaroid of his buddy, pulling out the note I found in there. I pass it over to Negan. "Take a look at that."

Negan reads over it. "'Cheyenne?'" he questions. "I thought her name was Clary?"

"I think Cheyenne's her real name. Clary's a nickname. At least, it's what she goes by."

Negan looks back down at the note. "Glenn and Carl. Why do those names sound familiar?"

"Carl's the kid. The one with the hat."

Negan snaps his fingers. "That's right. And Glenn was the one Daryl got killed." Negan passes Clary's note back over to me. "You keep that, use it when you think you need to. But he's close. Since you're doing such an awesome job, you want to have a little blast from the past with you-know-who?"

He's testing me, waiting to see where my loyalty lies: with my wife that he's fucking, or with him. I say nothing.

"I'm kidding, man. Lighten up. Pick whoever you want, as long as she says yes." Negan pauses, as if suddenly realizes something. "Oh, crap. Are you okay down there? Your penis? I mean, that guy, he, uh, he clomped on it. Or is it down for the count? Hey, maybe we should start calling you 'Wight.' Get it? 'Cause that dude bit your d?"

"I'm fine," I tell him, "but I'm gonna pass. Man, I'm cool."

"Huh. Are you cool, thought, Dwight? I mean, I just said that it was happy hour at the Pussy Bar and Dwight eats for free, and you're telling me no? Is that cool?"

"I haven't finished the job," I say, glancing down. "I-I haven't earned it yet. Right?"

"The hell you talking about? You earn what you take."

Negan and I both glance down as my walkie talkie crackles, Arat's voice saying, "We have an orange situation."

I take the walkie from my belt, getting ready to reply, but Negan takes it from me. "Arat, what do you got?" he inquires. "A grab-and-go?"

"Yeah, he could've only gone three ways. The moth, the angel, or the hard way."

"Good."

Negan tosses the walkie back to me, and I almost drop it before I say, "It's D. I'll meet you at the gate."

I put the walkie back on my belt as Negan says, "I mean, I want my shit back, but that is grunt work. Why don't you have Fat Joey go and do it? God knows he needs the exercise. You? You don't have to do it, Dwight."

"I'd like to do it," I tell him.

Negan chuckles, leaning down and pressing our foreheads together. He pats my back as he pulls away. "Good boy."

I pick up my crossbow, running to get my motorcycle and meet Arat at the gate. "I'll take the angel," I tell her.

Arat pulls open the gate for me, and I leave without looking back.

* * *

I ran into trouble. My bike was fucked, I nearly died, but it's okay because I can see what I came out here for.

Gordon struggles against a walker in the middle of the street, and I drop my bike. He kills the walker, pushing its body aside, just as I reach him, tackling him to the ground. I get my gun on him, snapping, "Get up and start walking, asshole."

Gordon sighs, defeated, before doing what I say. I keep my gun on him as we walk back to the Sanctuary, limping from having to dive aside to avoid a walker falling off an overpass. "I'm screwed up," I say, not really caring if he's paying attention or not. "My bike's screwed up, and you're going back because you owe. And now, you owe a hell of a lot more. Was it worth it?"

"Just let me go," Gordon pleads.

"I can't."

"Why?" Gordon inquires as the two of us slow to a stop.

"Shut up," I order.

Gordon turns to face me, glancing at the gun I have aimed at him before back at me. "We used to be friendly."

"Shut up."

"After everything he did—to you, to your wife—"

"Don't talk about her. She's not my wife."

"Not anymore."

I take my gun off of Gordon, using it to gesture to the countryside around us. "Look, there's nowhere to go," I say. "Everything's his or will be."

"I know."

I put my gun back on Gordon. "Keep walking." When he doesn't move, I bark, "I said keep walking!"

"It's okay," Gordon tells me. "It's okay if you do it. I get it. Hell, I want you to. Please."

"Shut up. Keep walking."

"I can't go back."

"You will. 'Cause that's the only way."

"See, that's what he tells us," Gordon tries. "That there's no choice, no way but his way. Thug swoops in with a baseball bat and a smile, and we're all so scared that we just gave up _everything_. Well, there's only one of him and all of us, so why are we living like this?"

"Because look where we are!" I cry. "We were losing. Now, we're not."

Gordon scoffs. "You know… after me and Maria survived those first few months, when we got there… we thought it would be okay. We thought we knew how to fight the monsters."

Gordon gets down on his knees, staring up as I shift my gun to line up with his forehead. "Get up," I order.

"It's okay, D."

"Get up!"

"There's nothing back there for me. This is the last time I'm going to kneel."

"Get up!" I yell, not really wanting to shoot him. At least, not while he looks at me. It's part of the reason I could kill Denise but not Clary. Denise wasn't looking at me, but Clary was. That, and I owed my life and Sherry's to her brother.

"You feel. I remember, D."

"I'll put every person you ever talked to on the fence. I'll blindfold them, and I'll make them eat shit sandwiches for the rest of their short, sorry lives. I'll dig up your dead wife and feed her body to the crows. You feel that? You feel it?!"

"Okay, D," Gordon says, giving in. "You won." He gets to his feet, his eyes watering as he looks at me. "But you know there's nothing left."

He turns and keeps walking, while I stay where I am. He's right; I do know that there's nothing left. For him, at least. I pity him. That's why I raise the gun, firing a shot into his back. He'll reanimate and end up back at the Sanctuary. We never stop working for Negan, even after we're dead.

* * *

 **~Daryl~**

I can hear the lock clicking as it's being unlocked, the door opening. I look up to see not Dwight, but Fat Joey, the Savior that held a gun on me earlier. I take the sandwich from him, and he leaves, closing the door behind him. I wait, but there's no click that signals that it was locked.

I put my sandwich down, lying down in front of the door. I look through the crack at the bottom, and I don't see anyone out in the hall. I try the door, sighing in relief when it opens. I have a chance. I can get out. If I make it out, I can go home to Clary.

I step out into the hallway, staying close to the wall as I search for the exit. I come to a cross hall, pausing as I wait for Saviors to pass at one end. I spin, raising my fist to throw a punch as there's a tug on my shirt. I freeze when I see Sherry, not knowing exactly what she'll do. Will she help me? Will she try to convince me to go back? Will she yell for the other Saviors?

"Go back while you can," Sherry whispers. "You know I did. Whatever he's done to you, there's more. There's always more. You won't get away. And when you're back, it'll be worse. You have a little sister, right? I overheard D talking about her. So go back, for her."

"I'm goin' so I can get out for her," I say, checking to see if the hall's clear. "'Cause she's out there."

I take off without waiting for Sherry's reply, finding the exit down another hall. I look through the window in the door, finding motorcycles and no Saviors outside. I open the door, running for a motorcycle, but Saviors appear. They surround me, closing in a circle around me. Fat Joey raises a gun on me, and I hear Negan whistling as he walks towards us. Two of the Saviors step aside, allowing him into the circle with me.

Negan sighs, taking Lucille off of his shoulder. "Are we pissing our pants yet?" he inquires. He sighs, using Lucille to point to Fat Joey. "Who are you?"

"Negan," he answers.

Negan points to another Savior. "Who are you?"

Same answer. "Negan."

Negan spreads his arms, gesturing to the Saviors in the circle. "Who are you?"

"Negan," they all answer.

Negan chuckles. "You see that? I am everywhere. And this was your shot to prove to me that that fundamental fact was sinking in, and you failed. Which sucks because your life was about to get so much cooler. Am I right?"

"Damn right," Fat Joey says.

"Now, Dwight gave you some options," Negan says. "I don't think you get it yet. So I'm gonna break it down for you. You get three choices. One, you wind up on the spike and you work for me as a dead man. Two, you get out of your cell, you work for points, but you're gonna wish you were dead. Or three, you work for me, you get yourself a brand new pair of shoes, and you live like a king! Choice seems pretty obvious. You should know, there is no door number four. This is it. This is the only way." I don't flinch, I don't say anything. I don't move. "Screw it."

Negan raises Lucille, moving to swing.

 _Clary, I'm sorry._

He stops. He doesn't hit me, doesn't kill me. Instead, Negan laughs, taking a step back. "Wow!" Negan laughs. "You don't scare easy. I love that. But Lucille, well, it kind of pisses her off. She finds it to be disrespectful. Lucky for you, she's not feeling too thirsty today. But I am. So… I'm gonna go get me a drink!"

Negan whistles as he walks off, and the Saviors take a few steps in, closing around me. I put my guard up, waiting for a few seconds to see who will throw the first punch. When no one does, I do. I punch a Savior on my right, hoping to fight them all off and escape. I don't, and they quickly overpower me.

* * *

When the music shuts off, I know Dwight's returned.

I don't turn as the door opens. He holds down a sandwich for me to take, but I refuse it. He places it on the ground beside me, saying, "Eat."

I don't move.

"You got your friend killed," Dwight says. "I got Tina killed. And don't pretend like you don't know the score." In retaliation, I grab the sandwich and throw it at him before sitting with my back against the wall again. "You should be dead. But Negan's taken a shine to you. Your sister should be dead. But Negan's taken a shine to her, too. You're lucky. Don't forget."

He tapes a picture to the wall beside me, and I glance up to see that it's the polaroid of Glenn's body. Dwight gets to his feet, waiting to see my reaction. After a moment, Dwight throws a folded up piece of paper at me. I recognize it instantly as Clary's note. He says, "You're never gonna see her again. Not as a free man."

With that, he closes and locks the door. His footsteps don't fade, meaning he's still there. I hold Clary's note close, all that I have of her. I take the picture off the wall, throwing it down beside the sandwich next to me. After a moment, I turn it over. _Glenn, I'm so sorry._

Sorry doesn't even begin to cover it.

Looking down at the picture of Glenn's body, I finally break. I start crying, and when Dwight walks away, I know it was what he was waiting for.

* * *

"Step in," Dwight orders, opening the door to a room. He gives me a little shove, as I'm apparently not walking fast enough for him. I see Negan sitting in a chair, and he chuckles as we enter.

"Jesus," Negan sighs as he gets up, a glass of water in hand. "You look awful. Don't you worry. We'll have Carson fix you all up. You thirsty? Here." I take the glass he offers. "Aw, hell, I forgot. Your mouth is all puffed up like a babboon's ass. Need a straw? D, give him a straw. What's wrong with you?" Negan turns to me as Dwight searches for a straw in the cabinets. "See that guy? He hustles. I like hustle. But, believe it or not, things weren't always cool between us."

Dwight returns, dropping a straw in the glass. I still don't take a drink, not trusting Negan. He had the glass sitting beside him when we entered. He had an opportunity to slip something in it. But Dwight said that Negan's taking a shining to me, and that's why he hasn't killed me yet. And Negan is a man of his word.

"See, D, here, he worked for points," Negan continues, "him and his super hot wife and her super hot sister." Noticing I haven't drank any of the water yet, Dwight takes my glass. _Asshole_. "But, see, sis—she needed meds." I remember that. The insulin in the cooler, the reason I returned to them in the woods. "And that shit is hard to scavenge, so it costs more. Sis fell behind on points, so I asked her to marry me. Told her I would take care of her in sickness and in health, blah blah blah, because I am a stand-up guy."

 _That's debatable._

Negan says, "She tells me that she's gonna think about it. The next thing I know, I'm dealing with an orange situation. Dwighty boy here stole all the medication and took off with his super hot wife and my super hot maybe soon-to-be fiancée. So I had to send my guys after him. Because I can't let something like that stand." Negan raises Lucille, and I flinch as he waves the bat in my direction. "There… are… rules. Cost me an arm and a leg going after him. And you know what, Dwighty boy? He still got away.

"But here's the thing. D, he saw the light. He manned up. He came back. He asked for my forgiveness. I like that. Made me take notice." Negan raises Lucille again, and I try to lean away as he points towards me with her. "But Lucille, well, you know how she is. She is a stickler for the rules. So Dwight, he begged me not to kill Sherry. I thought it was kinda cute. Like your baby sis begging me not to hurt you. I figured I'd spare Sherry, so I was just gonna kill him. But then Sherry says that she will marry me if I let Dwight live, which, if you think about it, that's a pretty fucked up deal, 'cause I was gonna marry her sister until she wound up dead, but Sherry is super hot. Anyways, it was a start."

 _Dear Lord, is he done yet?_ I would rather listen to "Easy Street" ten more times than any more of Negan's story. And I fucking _hate_ "Easy Street."

"But it wasn't enough," Negan says.

 _Jesus fucking Christ._

"So Dwight… he got the iron." That explains what happened to his face, since it wasn't burned the first time I met him. "And then I married his super hot wife." _Okay, I fucking get it. Sherry and Tina are super hot._ "Ex-wife. And then after all that, he still got on board. And now look at him! Pow! One of my top guys. And we are totally cool. The point being, I think you can be that guy. I think you are ready to be that guy. Look around here. This? It call all be yours. All you gotta do is answer one simple question. Who are you?"

I don't answer.

"What, cat got your tongue? You're just overwhelmed by the awesomeness of this? I'm gonna ask you one more time. Who are you?"

 _I ain't never gonna kneel._

I answer, "Daryl."

Dwight shoves me back into the cell, and I catch myself on before I can crash into the wall. I turn to face him as I take a seat on the corner. He barks, "You're gonna wind up in that room or hanging on the fence!"

Dwight steps away, starting to close the door. He stops when I say, "I get why you did it. Why you took it. 'Cause you were thinkin' 'bout someone else. That's why I can't, 'cause I am, too. 'Cause she's on the other side, and I can't do that to her. I can't go against her like that."

"Who?" Dwight asks.

"What?"

"Who is she? The one you can't go against?"

"I thought you would've figured it out."

"Oh, believe me, I did. I want to hear you say it."

"Clary. My sister."

Dwight grins. "You blew your shot for you two to be on the same team. She's with us, Daryl."

With that sudden revelation, he closes the cell door, leaving me alone in the darkness.


	5. 4: Thank You

**Chapter 4: Thank You**

 **~Rick~**

"Little pig, little pig, let me in!"

I hear Negan's voice from the front gate, and as I approach, I see Spencer opening the chain link part of the gate for him. "Well?" Negan says.

"Who are you?" Spencer inquires.

"Oh, you better be jokin'. Negan, Lucille. I know I had to make a pretty strong first impression." Negan looks to me as I arrive behind Spencer. "Well, hello, there. Do not make me have to ask."

"You said a week," I say as I open the metal part of the gate. "You're early."

"I missed you," Negan says, grinning. "And the tiger. Where is she?"

"Oh, fucking shit!" I hear Clary exclaim, and we turn as she approaches.

Negan laughs when he sees her, calling, "There's the pretty kitty! I was hoping you'd be here!"

"You're early," Clary says, clearly not as amused as Negan is.

"Well, like I said," Negan replies, "I missed you."

A walker appears between two of the three trucks Negan brought, and he turns, taking Lucille off of his shoulder as he does so. "C'mon out here, Rick, Clary," he urges us. "Watch this. Calling it!"

We watch as Negan swings his bat once, killing the walker. I can see Clary tense out of the corner of my eye, remembering Negan swinging Lucille on Glenn. She gently touches her cheek where his blood sprayed on her, and I rest a hand on her arm, starting, "Hey, are—"

"Stop," she whispers in reply, pulling her arm free.

"Ha ha ha!" Negan laughs, turning to face us. "Easy peasy lemon squeezy!"

Clary takes a step outside the gate, asking, "I got a question for you, sir. You don't think the barbed wire would get caught in their hair?"

"Usually doesn't," Negan replies. "I like the way you think, tiger. Trying to look out for me. That's cute. But it's the other way around. _I'm_ the one looking out for _you_." He turns to his men. "Alright, everybody! Let's get started. Big day. Hey, Rick, you see that? What I just did? That is some service! I mean, we almost get turned away at the gate. 'Who is that guy, anyway?' Do I get mad? Do I throw a fit? Do I bash some ginger's dome in?" Behind her back, Clary's hands clench into fists. "Nope. I just take care of one of these dead pricks that could've killed one of y'all. Service."

Clary gasps when she sees someone within Negan's ranks, then immediately turns away. I crease my eyebrows in confusion, then turn as Negan walks past her, heading towards me. He walks into Alexandria, not giving me time to argue as he presses Lucille into my hand and ordering, "Hold this."

Clary and I turn, watching as Negan and his men infiltrate our home. "Hot diggity dog!" Negan exclaims. "This place is magnificent!" He turns back to Clary and I. "An embarrassment of riches, as they say. Yessir, I do believe you are gonna have plenty to offer up."

As Negan turns to look back at Alexandria, I see Daryl out of the corner of my eye. I turn to him, saying, "Daryl, hey—"

"No," Clary and Negan start at the same time, cutting the other off. Clary shuts her mouth, looking down, while I note how obedient she's become. If Negan says jump, Clary wants to know how high. With me, she'd always have to get the last word in. She won't even look Negan in the eye. God, she's in no condition to go up against him if we have to. At this point, she's so scared she'd probably fight on Negan's side. "I'm sorry, sir," Clary whispers. "I shouldn't have cut you off."

"You know your place," Negan chuckles, ruffling her hair. "I _like_ that. As for Ricky boy, that's a giant nope." He steps between Daryl and I. "He's the help. You don't look at him, you don't talk to him, and I don't make you chop anything off of him." I turn away from Daryl, watching as Negan steps over to Rosita, who still has her eyes on Daryl. "Same goes for everyone. Right?" For a long time, she doesn't move. Then, she glances up at Negan, glaring, before walking off. "Whoo." Negan steps back over to Clary and I. "A lot of suspense there. I don't think she even knew how much. All right, let's get this show on the road. See what kind of goodies you got in the cupboard."

"We put aside half the supplies," I tell him.

"No, Rick," Negan says. "No. You don't decide what we take. I do." Negan turns to one of his Saviors. "Arat."

"You heard the man," a Saviors barks, stepping forward. When no one moves, she barks, "Move out!"

"They're just gonna search the houses a bit, keep the process moving," Negan tells us. "Alright. Tiger, you gonna show me around or not?" For a moment, Clary says nothing, and Negan turns around to look at us. "What's the matter, tiger? Cat got your tongue? Are you gonna show me around or not?"

Clary lifts her head, asking, "What do you want to see first?"

Negan grins, whispering, "Surprise me."

* * *

"Negan," a Savior says as he approaches, camcorder in hand. "Something you might want to see."

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Negan says, taking the camera that I recognize as Deanna's. "I've got my fingers crossed for a little freaky-deaky."

My own voice comes from the camcorder, my interview tape for Alexandria. "Jee-hee-sus," Negan says. "Is that you, Rick, under all that man-bush? Shit. I would _not_ have messed with that guy. But that's not you anymore, is it? Nope!" Negan pauses the video. "Ah, what else is on here?" A beep, signalling that Negan has gone on to the next video. "Whoa, long hair."

There's a beep, and then a voice I recognize as Clary's sounds from the camcorder. _"Out there, it's hard to tell time. Either it drags on or flies by. Most of the time, it feels like it just stops. I had a friend who died a while back. He liked Faulkner. Dale, he told us this quote one time. It was what the father said to the son when he gave him a watch that had been handed down through generations. He said, 'I give you a mausoleum of all hope and desire which will fit your individual needs, no better than it did mine and my father before me. I give it to you not that you may remember time, but that you may forget it. For a moment, now and then, and not spend all of your breath trying to conquer it.'"_

Negan's silent, fixated on Clary's interview. He doesn't look up until after the recording ends, sighing, "Wow." He looks to Clary. "Sixteen people, huh? When was this filmed?"

"When we came to Alexandria," Clary tells him. "Over three, nearly four, months ago."

"What's the number now?"

"The number?"

"How many people have you killed?"

"Thirty-seven," Clary answers. "I've taken nearly forty lives in two years. I just can't seem to miss."

Negan whistles. "Damn. Why do I not have you working as a mercenary for me if you've got that kind of skill? I mean, I already got one. Why not both of you?"

"Because you want me here in Alexandria, gathering shit for you?" Clary tries.

"Good answer, tiger. Like I said, you catch on quick." Negan pauses, looking around. "Say, what ever happened to that sick girl? That seemed like a hell of a stressful night for her. The way she was carrying on, she was married to number two, right?" I lift my eyes, glaring up at him. "Careful. Careful how you're looking at me, Rick." I look away from him. "Widows, especially ones that look like that… they are special. I love 'em." My hand tightens around Lucille, tempted to swing. That is until Clary puts her hand on mine, tightening around it in a way to tell me not to. "Where is she? I would love to see her."

Clary chokes back a sob, turning into my side and resting her forehead on my arm. This girl is a damn good actress. She's selling the story that Maggie's dead better than I ever could.

"Do you care to pay your respects?" Father Gabriel suddenly inquires, announcing his presence.

"Ho-ly crap!" Negan cries, turning. "You are creepy as shit, sneaking up on me, wearing that collar with that freaky ass smile!"

"My apologies," Gabriel says. "I'm Father Gabriel."

Negan turns back to Clary and I. "She didn't make it?" He glances at Clary. "Oh, shit. You two were close, weren't you, tiger?"

"Clary was close to all of them," I answer for her. "But she learned."

* * *

 **~Clary~**

"Damn tragedy," Negan says as we stand over the empty graves. A facade to fool Negan, not letting him know about our people at the Hilltop or the deal with them. "That's what this is." He sighs. "Man, this must really suck for you guys. Number one? That was on me. No choice there. Lessons had to be learned. But number two? That didn't need to happen. Daryl, there, he forced my hand. Probably put her right on her back, huh? Damn. I was gonna ask her to come back with me."

Rick and I look at each other, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from telling Negan off and risking everyone. We look to Negan, and he sighs. "I know what you're thinking. How could I have a shot, guy that just bashed her husband's head in?" Negan chuckles. "You'd be surprised. Boy, people, they—"

Negan's cut off by a gunshot, glass shattering in the distance. "Shit," I hiss. "Who the—"

I cut myself off as I realize who the hell would be shooting, taking off without another word. "You better put a leash on her," I hear Negan say before they take off to follow me.

As I arrive at the infirmary, I hear Carl threaten, "Put some back, or the next one goes in you."

"Kid, what do you think happens next?" a Savior inquires.

"You die," Carl snaps. I rush in, stepping between him and the Saviors. I keep my back to Carl, using one hand to push him back. I put my shield on the other, using it to cover both of us. "Get out of the way, Dixon."

"Carl, put it down," I order, not taking my eyes off the Saviors in case they try anything.

"Carl, Carl," Rick echoes as he arrives with Negan. "Put it down."

"No," Carl replies. "He's taking all of our medicine. They said only _half_ our stuff."

"Of course," Negan says, stepping in front of me. He completely ignores me, though, his eyes on Carl. "Really, kid?"

"And you should go," Carl adds, looking up at the leader of the Saviors. "Before you find out how dangerous we all are."

"Well, pardon me, young man. Excuse the shit out of my goddamn French, but did you just fuckin' threaten me? Look, I get threatening David here, but I can't have it. Not him, not me."

"Carl, just put it down," Rick hisses.

"Don't be rude, Rick," Negan says, cutting him off. "We are having a conversation here. Little Miss Leader, I do believe you can lower the shield."

"Fuck," I growl, "no."

"Watch the way you're looking at me," Negan growls, glaring down at me. "You put the fucking shield down, or I will make Daryl cut it off your fucking arm." Hesitantly, I lower the shield. "There you go." Negan looks back to Carl. "Now, boy, where were we? Oh, yeah. Your giant, man-sized balls. No threatening us. Listen, I like you, so I don't wanna go hard proving a point here. You don't want that. I said half your shit, and half is what I say it is." Still, Carl doesn't lower the gun. "I'm serious. Do you want me to prove how serious? Again?" He still doesn't move. "Alright. Rick, give me Lucille. Tiger, step away from the one-eyed squirrel and get on your knees." I freeze in terror, and Negan lightly touches my cheek before brushing my hair back. "Don't worry, tiger. I'll make it quick."

Instantly, I know he's chosen me if Carl doesn't lower the gun. Without turning around, I plead, "Please, Carl. I'm begging you. Put it down, Cowboy."

Carl lowers his gun, and I take it from him, passing it over to Rick. Our leader hands it over to Negan when he extends his hand for it, saying, "You know, Rick, this whole thing reminds me that you have a lot of guns. There's all the guns you took from my outpost when you wasted all my people with a shit ton of your own guns. I'm betting there's even more. Which adds up to an absolute fuck ton of guns, and as this little emotion outburst has just made crystal clear, I can't allow that. They're all mine. So tell me, Rick, where are my guns?"

"I'll take you to them," Rick says.

"There! That wasn't so hard!" Negan turns to me. "And as for you, little missy, keep an _eye_ on your attack dog."

"I'm so sorry about him," I say, but I don't miss the emphasis Negan put on his little joke. I turn to Carl, taking him by the wrist. "You're coming with me."

"I never said you could leave!" Negan barks.

I turn back to him, pushing Carl behind me yet again. "Can you give me five minutes, sir?"

"What's the magic word?"

"Please."

Negan places a hand under my chin, lifting my head as he leans down. "Say it again."

"Please, Negan."

Negan drops his hand. "Five minutes. Clock's ticking. I expect you where all the guns are."

"Yes, sir," I say, and I push Carl ahead of me through the infirmary as the Saviors leave with Rick in tow. I close the door to one of the rooms behind me, turning to Carl in the center of the room.

Carl starts, "Babe—"

"Don't 'babe' me!" I snap. "What the hell were you thinking, Carl?! Jesus fucking Christ! We lost Glenn, lost Abe! I can't lose you! You've gotta let Negan do what he wants! I can't protect you from him! I'm not in charge anymore!"

Carl pauses for a moment before saying, "You never were, Cheyenne."

* * *

I approach the armory as Olivia puts the garage door to the pantry up, saying, "I figured you were coming."

"Show him where the guns are, Olivia," I order, stopping on the side of Negan where Rick isn't standing.

"The armory's inside," Olivia says, turning and leading the way in.

"You run the show in here?" Negan inquires.

Olivia pauses, turning to look back at him. "I just keep track of it all, the rations, the guns."

"Good. Smart. Don't let me stop you. Take Arat and the boys, show 'em the goods." Negan, Rick, and I step aside as the Saviors, led by Arat, file in after Olivia. "Wait, wait, wait." Rick and I stop, remaining with Negan in the pantry. "While they're at it, I just want to point out to you that I'm not taking a scrap of your food. Slim pickings in here. And I can't be the only one to notice that you got a fat lady in charge of keeping track of rations, can I? Either way, you starve to death, I don't get shit, so for now, you get to keep all the food." He looks down at Rick. "How 'bout that?"

"What do you want me to say?" Rick inquires.

"I don't know, Rick. How about a thank you? You think that might be in order? Or is it too much to ask?!"

"That's mighty generous of you, Negan, sir," I say. "Thank you."

He doesn't even look at me. "No. I want Rick to answer. I know we started off on the wrong foot, but what can I say? You forced my hand, Rick. But it's like I've been trying to tell you. I'm a very reasonable man as long as you cooperate, so let me ask you a question, Rick. Are you cooperating?"

Rick finally looks up at Negan as he asks, "What's it look like?"

Negan chuckles humorlessly. "Oh, I know what it looks like. But what I really want to know is if we're gonna find all the guns back there or if maybe you got a few just waitin' for their moment, just like my Lucille."

"They're all in there, to the best of my knowledge."

"I am counting on that, Rick."

* * *

"Rick and I, we discussed hiding some of the guns," I say from where I sit at the front of the church. It's the same exact spot I sat when we convinced the others to join with the Hilltop to take out the outpost, when we thought they were the only Saviors. Now, I've gathered them because of two missing guns that might end up costing Olivia her life.

"I've done it before," Rick says. "I figured we could bury them out there. Maybe we don't touch them for years."

"Years?" Tobin echoes from where he sits behind Aaron and Eric.

"Yeah, that's right. But what if the Saviors find those guns? What if we run into them and we have those guns on us? Clary, what happens?"

"One of us dies," I answer. "Maybe more that one. Maybe a lot of us. Doesn't matter how many bullets we have. There won't be enough. They'll win. It's that black and white. Hiding a couple of guns isn't the answer anymore. We don't have to like it, but we need to give them over. A Glock 9 and a .22 Bobcat. That's what they're looking for. Who has it?"

No one speaks, and Rick says, "Someone knows where they are or they know who does. If we don't find them, they're gonna kill Olivia. They'll do it."

Scott stands, asking, "Why do they care? Two guns aren't a threat to them. But those guns could help protect us from whatever else is out there."

"Two guns in the hands of the right person can do a lot," I reply. "Trust me, I know. And you all know that I know." I look to Scott. "Do you have 'em?"

"Wish I did."

With that, Scott takes a seat.

"Most of you weren't there," I say, my eyes landing on the ones that were. "You didn't have to watch. You didn't have to scrub his blood off of you!"

"Cheyenne," Rick whispers.

I take a breath, then stand up on the table so everyone can see me. "You can look away now when someone else dies, or you can help solve this. You can help save Olivia. We give them what we want, and we live in whatever passes for peace." I can see Aaron and Eric discussing something in hushed voices, Aaron shaking his head. "Aaron? Eric? What is it?"

Eric stands, looking up at me. "Say we find the guns," Eric proposes. "How are we gonna get out of this, Clary?"

I sigh softly, looking down at my feet. To these people, I'm their savior. I've helped save this town so many times, helped save so many of its residents. That's why I'm ashamed to admit it. "There is no way out, Eric. I'm so sorry."

"Let me put this to all of you as clearly as I can," Rick calls. "Clary and I, we're not in charge anymore. Negan is."

"No matter what way you put this, we're now slaves to Negan and the Saviors," I say. "There is no other way. This is the _only_ way we get to live. We answer to him. We provide for him. We belong to him."

I jump off the table, slowly walking down the aisle. I stop at the doors, standing in front of them. "I won't ask again," I warn. "Who has the fuckin' guns?" I cross my arms over my chest as the others turn to look back at me. "These doors don't open until I have a Glock 9 and .22 Bobcat in _my hands."_

"Clary," Eugene suddenly says, turning to look back at me. "Not everyone's here."

I take off, jumping onto the table at the front of the church so I can see everyone. I take a headcount, realizing that we're missing two people, not counting Olivia, Daryl, Sasha, and Maggie. "Rosita and Spencer," I say. "Oh, fuck. I know where they are."

* * *

With the help of Father Gabriel and Rick, I turn Spencer's place upside down and inside out. Aaron searches Rosita's with a few others, finding nothing. It's Rick that finds them, along with a couple cans of hoarded food and half a bottle of brandy. He passes the bag with the guns in to me without a word, and I take off for the door, the others right behind me. We arrive in the street to find one of the Saviors, David, picking on Enid. "Balloons?" he inquires. "Going to a party, little girl?"

"Let me keep them," Enid says, and I see they're the green balloons that she and Glenn had. "Please."

"Say it again."

"Please."

David takes a step closer, touching Enid's cheek as he says, "One more time."

I pass the guns back to Rick, hissing, "I'll take care of this."

Sharply, Enid says, "Please."

"Step away from the underage girl, asshole," I say, coming to Enid's rescue. I hold my hand out for the balloons, and David glares at me as he drops them into my hand. He storms off with a group of Saviors, and I turn to Enid, pressing them into her hand. "You okay, E?"

"Yeah," she replies, nodding. In the months since Carl was shot, the three of us have all become good friends, even though the waters were more than a little rocky between Enid and I at first. "Thanks."

"You sure you're good?"

Enid wipes a tear from her eye, nodding. She takes a breathe, shakily sighing, "Yeah."

I wrap an arm around Enid, squeezing her shoulder for a second before rejoining Rick as he approaches Negan. "What've you got for me, Rick?" Negan inquires. He chuckles as he sees the guns, taking then. "Well, would you look at that. They were here after all. Funny how a little 'Holy shit! Someone's gonna die!' lights a fire under everybody's ass! So tell me, which one of your fine folks almost cost Olivia the rest of her days?"

"It doesn't matter anymore," Rick says.

"No, it does matter. You need to get everybody on board. Everybody. Or we go right back to square one. But you won't tell me, will you? I saw you come out of that house, Clary. Gonna tell me?"

I pause, considering it. I've seen how Spencer's been changing, and I don't trust him at all. So I tell Negan, "Shane Walsh."

* * *

"Now that you know we can follow your rules," Rick starts, facing Negan at the gate.

"Yes?" Negan inquires.

"I'd like to ask you if Daryl can stay."

"Not happening," Negan immediately says. "You know what, I don't know. Maybe Daryl can plead his case. Maybe Daryl can sway me. Daryl?"

My brother says nothing, looking to the ground. I ask, "Five minutes?"

Negan turns around to look at me. "What?"

"Can I have five minutes with him?" I request. "Please?"

"I already gave you five minutes. You're asking a lot."

"One minute?" I try. "Please, Negan. I'll make it up to you."

"No." Negan chuckles, looking between Rick and I. "Well, you tried. Now what you gotta do is get over that tall wall of yours and try harder out there. Earn for me. Because we're coming back soon, and when we do, you better have something interesting for us, or Lucille, she's gonna have her way." Negan turns to Rick. "I want you to hear that again. If you don't have something interesting for us… somebody's gonna die. And no more magic guns. Arat, grab the deer. It's getting late."

With not a word but a look of pure anger, Michonne drops the deer carcass from her shoulders and to the ground. She turns and walks off, not looking back as the Saviors take her kill. At the same time, Dwight, on my brother's motorcycle, drives out the gate and back towards wherever they call home. Negan grins, saying, "So, nobody died. And you know what I think? I think that you and I, we've refined our understanding. Let me ask you something, Rick. Do you want me to go?"

"I think that would be good," Rick answers after a moment.

"Then just say those two magical words."

"Thank you."

Negan chuckles. "Don't be ridiculous. Thank _you_." Negan glances over his shoulder as a walker approaches the gate, growling. "Another one. You need our help. David, hand me that candlestick over there. You know what I think? We're both gonna come out of this winners. Watch my form, Rick!" I glance down as I notice Rick's hand tightening around Lucille again, and I put my hand over his so no one notices. Negan swings the candlestick, killing the walker. "Yep, win-win." He tosses the candlestick aside as he turns back to us. "Why don't you clean that up for me for next time? Let's move out! Rick, if you'd be so kind, my Lucille?"

As the Saviors leave, Negan takes Lucille back from Rick, looking down at us as he says, "In case you haven't caught on, I just slid my dick down your throat and you _thanked_ me for it."

Negan starts to walk away before pausing. "Oh, I think I'm forgetting something." He turns to me. "Your shield."

"What?" I ask.

"Give me your shield. You're lucky I let you keep it this long."

I put my hand over my shield on my arm, holding it close to me. "Please," I say. "I'll give you anything but my shield."

"You don't get it, do you? And here I thought you understood. It doesn't belong to you. Nothing does. That's _my_ shield." Negan grabs Daryl's arm as he starts to pass him, raising his gun to Daryl's temple. "And I'd hate to kill big bro over something like this."

My shield hits the ground with a clang, and Negan smiles as one of his boys runs over, picking up my shield and taking its harness. He releases Daryl, shoving him back towards the truck as he climbs in the front. As the Saviors roll out, there's no one left at the gate except for Rick, Spencer, Rosita, and I. As Rick and Rosita close the gate, I walk around the other side of the van, Spencer's back turned to me. I tap his shoulder, then punch him when he turns. "What the hell!" he cries, holding a hand to his cheek.

"Your dumb ass nearly got Olivia killed!" I bark.

"We took the guns you had in your house," Rick informs him, and I glance over my shoulder to see him behind me. "The Saviors wanted ours, all of them. There were two missing from the inventory. They were going to kill Olivia."

"Spencer, look at us," I order. "I shoulda turned you over to Negan, but I covered for you."

"You went into my house?" he questions.

"They woulda killed Olivia. Excuse me for not getting a fucking warrant!"

"Look, I'm not faulting you for having the guns," Rick says. "I did it myself. But the food and the liquor?" Rick sighs. "That's 'cause you're small, Spencer. You're weak. You got lucky with the walls."

Rick turns to walk away, and before following him, I add, "You got lucky with us."

"We should've made a deal with them when we could've," Spencer calls after us.

"Suck my ass, Spence!" I call.

"Oh, yeah, we're _so_ lucky! The heroes, Rick Grimes and Clary Dixon! More like the killers. Oh, but it was for the greater good! You've led us all to the Promised Land! Isn't that right?! Here we are! I guess Glenn and Abraham were lucky, too?"

That's the only thing that makes me stop, that makes Rick stop.

"You ever say anythin' like that again," Rick threatens without turning around, "I'll break your jaw, knock your teeth out."

The threat isn't good enough for me. I shove my crossbow at Rick, muttering to him to hold it, before making my way back to Spencer. He takes a step back as I approach, and I punch him so hard he falls to the ground. I kneel on his chest, truly considering murdering him. I grab his shirt collar with one hand, pulling him up; and I keep my other hand raised, ready to throw a punch. "If I _ever_ hear his name out of your rat mouth again, I'll fuckin' kill you!" I threaten. "I'll beat you to death, Spencer! I'll watch you choke on your own blood, and I'll fucking _smile_! Make my day! I'm waitin', bitch! Say his name!"

When he says nothing, just stares up at me in fear, I let him go. I walk away, taking my crossbow back from Rick. I don't wait for him as I head back to the house, dropping my crossbow in my bedroom and climbing out the window onto the roof. I take a seat on the edge, dangling a leg off. I sit by myself in silence, then reach in my pocket for my cigarettes and lighter. I keep saying I'm gonna give it up, and I think I'll actually try this time. It's the last cigarette in the pack, anyway.

I hold the cigarette between my teeth as I light it, then take a long drag on it. I find myself thinking about everything that's happened and is happening. I can't get Eric and Aaron's offer to live with them out of my head. By the time I reach the end of my last cigarette, I've made up my mind. I'm going to live with Aaron and Eric because I can't be with anyone else right now. They're the only people that can protect me from finally snapping. As if today with Spencer isn't proof enough of how close I am.

" _You're just one bad day away from being me."_

Negan was right all along. I _am_ close to being him. All it would take is a nudge, and I'd be over the edge I teeter on, the line between human and monster. Between human and _Negan._

 _God, I hope Aaron and Eric can bring me back._

I climb back in the window, and Carl doesn't look up as I enter. I grab my backpack and a duffel bag, putting all of my belongings in the two. Carl's watching me now, and he tilts his head to the side in confusion when he sees me packing. I put my crossbow on my shoulder without a word, starting for the door. "Clary?" Carl asks. He gets up, rushing over to me. He stands in my way, blocking me from exiting. "Clary, what the hell are you doing?"

"I said I was never coming home, Carl," I finally say after a few minutes of silence. "I can't be in this house anymore. I'm leaving."

"Clary…"

Carl trails off, not moving to stop me, as I duck under his arm. I'm halfway down the hall when I hear him call, "Wait!" I take a few steps back to him. "You're not leaving Alexandria, right?"

"I'll still be here, just not in this house," I assure him. "I think… I'm gonna go live with Aaron for a little while. I think it would be better for me not to be around you."

"To protect me," Carl guesses.

"That's a big part of it, yeah," I say. "But I also think we should take a break. You and me."

"Wait, you mean… you mean take a break from us?"

"Thank you," I say, "for understanding." I turn away. "Goodbye, Carl."

As I walk down the hall, I see Michonne standing outside the door to the room she and Rick share, Rick's voice drifting out into the hall. "You know, I had a friend. I don't talk about him. Clary, she said his name again for the first time in a long time. I haven't heard it in a while. He was my partner. He got Lori and Carl to safety right after it all started. I couldn't. I was in the hospital. I-I didn't know what what happening. My friend, his name was Shane."

I have to stop, leaning against the wall.

"Well, him and Lori… they were together. They thought I was dead. I know Judith isn't mine. I know it." Rick takes a deep sigh. "I love her. She's my daughter. But she isn't mine. I had to accept that. I did. So I could keep her alive. I'll die before she does, and I hope that's a long time from now so I can… raise her and protect her and teach her how to survive."

I decide that it's now or never, and I take a deep breath as I walk towards Rick's room. "Rick?" I ask, stepping into view. "I got something I gotta tell you."

"Clary? How long were you there?"

"Long enough to hear you talkin' about Shane. Rick, he was planning something against you since before… since before we found out about Sophia. And I knew about it."

"You didn't tell me?" Rick demands.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. Tears are brimming at the corners of my eyes, and I quickly wipe them away. "Do… do you remember at Woodbury, when you questioned my loyalty? Which side I was on?"

"Clary…"

"It wasn't until the night you killed Shane that I was on your side."

"Clary, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Because I was on another side at first."

"Clary, what? You're… you're not making any sense."

"Rick," I whisper, doing everything I can not to break down. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I drop to my knees as Rick makes his way over, looking down at me. "What are you talking about?"

"Shane asked me to be his spy. He wanted me to be a double agent. Get on your good side, tell him everything. I almost went dark side, Rick. When we went eighteen miles out, I realized who I'd be working for. I told him no, Rick, but I betrayed you nonetheless." I fall forward on my hands at knees at Rick's feet. "I betrayed you."

"Every time you said you had my back, it was a lie? You were just trying to get my ear?"

"And I'm so sorry. Rick, I don't know if you can trust me anymore."

"Clary, why the hell wouldn't I trust you?" Rick questions, kneeling in front of me. "It's okay." He puts a hand under my chin, lifting my head to face him. "Hey. You telling me this, it proves whose side you're on. You haven't betrayed me. I just wish you would've told me sooner."

"Okay," I nod. "From now on, I'll tell you everything. No more secrets between us. I guess that means there's another thing I have to tell you…"

Rick takes a deep breath. "What is it?"

"I, uh, I can't be here anymore. I'm not leaving Alexandria. I'm still gonna be here, but I'm moving in with Aaron and Eric. I can't be in this house anymore."

"What?" Michonne questions. "Why?"

I shake my head. "I just can't." Rick helps me to my feet, and I pick up the bags I dropped by the door. The three things that the Saviors didn't take were my clothes, my crossbow, and my personal things in my backpack. Nearly everything else, they took. "So… I'll see you guys around."

* * *

 **~Aaron~**

"I can't believe they took all our shit," Eric mutters as we roll out a blanket in place of where our bed was.

"It's not _all_ of our shit," I point out. "Just the beds."

"What the hell are they going to do with them?"

"It doesn't matter what they're going to do," I mumble. "You weren't there. You haven't seen what he can do. There's nothing we could've done. One way or another, they were going to take everything."

Eric's quiet for a moment, the entire house falling into an eery silence. Normally, there'd be a ticking from the clock in our room. That noise is gone, taken away by Negan and his men. Four sharp knocks on our front door cut through the silence, causing Eric and I to jump. We get to our feet, walking together to the door. I open it, only to see Clary standing there. She has a duffle bag in one hand, her backpack slung over one shoulder. Over her other shoulder, I can see her crossbow. It was the only weapon, aside from knives and Michonne's katana, that they didn't take. They even took the shield that Clary was so proud of. "Clary?" Eric asks. "What're you doing here?"

"You guys still got that extra room?" Clary asks. I realize just how much she needs us when her voice breaks as she whispers, "I got nowhere to go."

* * *

As Eric and I lay side by side on the floor, covered with a second blanket, I can't think about anything but Clary down the hall. I close my eyes, listening. I can hear her crying softly, probably close to crying herself to sleep. "Hey," Eric whispers, and I open my eyes. "Go get her. She should sleep with us tonight. It was a rough day for her."

I nod in agreement, slipping out from under the covers. I make my way through the familiar, now empty, hall until I reach Clary's room. She lays with her back to the door, her crossbow no farther than arm's reach away from her. I step in, and from what I can see, she's wearing a t-shirt too large for her. It takes me a moment, but I recognize it as Glenn's. I kneel beside her, placing a hand on her arm. "Hey, get up," I tell her. "Come with me."

"'m alright," she mumbles, trying to push me away. "Go back to Eric."

"He was the one that sent me over here," I say. "And I, uh, I don't think he'll let me come back to bed until you come with me."

She doesn't look at me, doesn't say anything. She won't move on her own, so I gently pick her up. Clary immediately leans her head against my chest, closing her eyes again. Eric pushes himself up on his elbow as I enter our room, and he wipes Clary's cheeks as soon as I put her down next to him. I lay back down, covering up the three of us with blankets again, Clary in the middle.

We're all silent for a few moments, Eric throwing an arm across Clary to make her feel more comfortable. She breaks the silence by saying, "Is this what normal kids did? Laid between their parents? I never did this."

"That's it," I say, having heard about her childhood before and deciding that enough was enough. "We're your parents now."

Clary asks, "Does this mean you've also adopted Daryl as your dirty, feral man-child?"

Eric laughs, then says, "Yes. We'll be sure to tell him in those exact words when we get him back."

"If he comes back," Clary mumbles. Before either of us can assure her that we're going to get him back, she turns on her side, ending the conversation. She curls into my chest, falling asleep almost instantly. I kiss her forehead, whispering, "Sleep tight, sweetheart."

"'Sweetheart?'" Eric questions. "I thought Daryl was the only one allowed to call her that."

"She made an exception for me," I answer. I look down at Clary. "Daryl said that if anything happened, I was supposed to take care of her. I guess she's ours now."

* * *

 **~Eugene~**

I get to my feet when I hear a knock on my door, opening it to see Rosita standing there. She holds up her hand, something gleaming in it. It takes me a second to realize she's holding a bullet casing, the one from the shot Negan fired earlier today. "Rosita?" I question.

Four words are all she says.

"Make me a bullet."

* * *

 **If you guys are confused about Clary's revelation to Rick, go read the chapter titled "Double Agent" in my story** _ **Clary Dixon: Deleted Scenes.**_ **And the exception that Aaron mentioned comes from the chapter titled "Leaving: Part 2."**


	6. 5: Grave

**Chapter 5: Grave**

 **~Sasha~**

I get to my feet as soon as the door opens, surprised to see Maggie up and walking around. She squints at the bright sunlight, holding her hand over her eyes. "You, uh, you okay?" I question.

Maggie gives me a slight nod. "Where is he? Where are they both?"

"C'mon," I say softly. Maggie takes my hand as I lead her to the spot that Clary picked out, the spot by the willow tree just like my brother. She kneels by Glenn's grave, and I dig his pocket watch out of my pocket. I kneel next to Maggie, offering it to her. "It was in Glenn's pocket. And a single bullet. All Abraham had was a cigar."

Maggie presses a kiss to the pocket watch before placing it on the grave. She gently touches the bullet next to it, looking to me. I explain, "I gave Glenn's bullet to Clary. She put it there. She was here." I sit back, closer to Abraham's grave as Maggie sits next to Glenn's. "It feels like everything's wrong."

"Not everything," Maggie argues, looking at me.

"He told me that you're gonna be alright. He said that you just have to take it easy for the next few days."

"He told me that we have to stay. That we, um, that it's better if we stay close, just in case, till the baby's born."

"Then we'll stay," I confirm.

"I'm still thinking about it."

"You're staying, Maggie, and so am I."

We share a small smile. It's a sad one, but it's a smile nonetheless.

"It's nice to see you up," Jesus says, and Maggie and I turn as he approaches.

"Flowers," Maggie notes, watching as he places fresh ones on Abraham's grave. "It was you."

"Ones on your bed, too," I tell her.

"I read somewhere that blue flowers inspire strength and calming," Jesus tells her as he places green flowers on Glenn's grave.

"What's green?" Maggie asks.

"Release." Jesus places a hand on Maggie's arm as she sniffles, wiping her eyes. "Clary asked me to watch over you."

Maggie pales, green eyes darting down to the bullet on Glenn's grave. She looks back up at Jesus, eyes widening. "Where _is_ Clary?"

"Aaron took her back to Alexandria," Jesus says. "She's still alive. She took my gun, but I found her before she could…"

He trails off, looking down at the bullet.

"Thank God you're finally awake." I roll my eyes as I hear Gregory's voice, the dickhead of a leader approaching. "You people said you got them all."

"We thought we did," Maggie says, stepping forward to face him. I stand beside her, ready to defend her if I need to. "It was just an outpost."

"How many of them were there?" Gregory inquires.

"There were a lot. There might be hundreds."

"Do you know the deal you made us take, Marsha?"

"It's Maggie," Jesus snaps. I'm glad to see he's getting as tired as I am of Gregory's bullshit.

"No," Maggie says. "And Clary and I didn't make you take that deal."

"I'm happy we could patch you up," Gregory says, turning tail as we call him out on his bullshit. "You need to go. Make sure you let Rich know what we did for you."

"Doctor Carson said I should stay," Maggie calls after him.

Gregory turns back at that. "If he thinks he has the authority to make that decision, he's mistaken." I step forward, opening my mouth to speak. "Don't look at me like that. She'll be safer with her own people." He starts to walk past us to Jesus, pretending Maggie isn't even here. "And we'll be safer without her." He pauses, looking down at me. "And you need to keep your distance from Maggie and stay focused on your work here at the Hilltop." He looks down at the graves, then back up at Maggie and I. "Did you do this? We don't bury our dead! We burn them!"

"I did it," I interject. "I don't live here."

"Gregory, this is Sasha," Jesus says. "She got Maggie here. They're both from Alexandria."

It's only at Jesus's statement do I realize that Gregory doesn't know who the hell I am. Hell, he doesn't even know who his own people are. A Savior could waltz in, spy on them for Negan and leave, and Gregory would treat them the same way he'd treat Jesus or Kal or Carson.

"I don't have time to keep track of everybody," Gregory says. "I've been recuperating, too, Jesus. From a stab wound."

"And Clary was fucking shot," Jesus snaps. "Maggie was having complications. Excuse every-fucking-one for being more worried about them than your paper cut, Gregory."

"Maggie said that her people could take care of the Saviors. So far, all they've done is put our community at risk." He turns back to Maggie. "You know, if they see you here, they'll think we colluded."

"We did," I point out.

Gregory sighs, seeing that his little bitch fit isn't going his way. "I did not agree to this," he says, gesturing down to the graves. "If they think we helped attack their outpost, they'll do _that_ to us. Jesus, do you have any idea what plausible deniability means?"

"Yes," Jesus sighs.

"Well, then you know it's our way out. If they leave, we have plausible deniability."

"Gregory, it'll be night soon," Jesus points out. "It's not safe for them to leave right now."

Gregory sighs, turning back to Maggie and I. "Look, I'm a good guy. You can stay the night. But leave in the morning."

"We'll talk more about it tonight," Jesus tries.

"No, I made my decision."

"I'm just saying that maybe—"

"Do you want to go back with them?" Gregory questions.

Jesus pauses for a second. "I'll take them back."

"I meant—"

"I know what you meant," Jesus snaps. "Maybe I should. Clary could use me there. It's not like you'd be losing your only fighter."

I think Jesus just became my favorite person.

* * *

 **~Clary~**

"You should come with us," Rick tries as we stand around Carl's room. I lean against the wall next to Aaron, sighing softly.

"Someone's gotta be here for Judith," Carl says.

"There's people who want to help. We'll only be gone a few days at the most. We need supplies. They're gonna be coming back soon."

"Is this how it's gonna be now?" Carl snaps, not even turning to look at his father.

"Yes, it is," Rick answers. "You know that."

Carl shakes his head, opening his mouth to argue, but I don't give him the chance. "Goddammit, Carl," I snap. "Lose the moody teenager bullshit. We've got bigger problems at hand."

Carl turns to me, retorting, "Like what, Clary?! 'Cause I don't see you leading a damn revolution while you're being Negan's lapdog!"

"Wow, Carl. Tell me what you really think."

"I can't say that it's not true. You've never given in to anyone, not even my dad! Now this guy comes along and you're bowing at his feet. He's made you his bitch!"

"Maybe you didn't see what I saw that night," I say. "He killed our family. I never had to scrub so much blood off of me, and I've been covered before. Tell me, Carl, would you be so ready to go after Negan if it was someone else he chose? If it was Michonne? Your dad? Me? No. You'd be in the same position I'm in because you'd realize that man has the power to take away _everything_ you've ever cared about! That's what he did to me. That's what he's threatening to still do to me." I pause as I turn to walk out, looking at at Michonne with tears in my eyes. "You asked me why I couldn't be in this house anymore. Now you know." I look back at Carl. "Hey. I ain't _nobody's_ bitch."

I start down the hall, Aaron turning to follow me. "We'll be downstairs, Rick," he says before following. I turn as Aaron arrives in the living room behind me, still fuming. "So, uh, I think you definitely told Carl."

"Don't even say his name," I sigh. "I'm so fucking tired of his shit! He doesn't think about anything!"

"Neither do you," Aaron points out.

The only thing I can do is glare at him because he's got me there. "When it comes to a fight in the heat of the moment, I don't think. You're right there. But he doesn't think about a single goddamn thing! He doesn't stop to think about what comes out of his mouth." It pisses me off to no end when my voice breaks, because the emotion was caused by him. My voice is still shaking as I exclaim, "Goddammit!"

I close my eyes, running my hand through my hair. I try to stop shaking before Rick comes down, now wanting him to see me broken up over his son. But I can't do it. I start to fall to my knees, but Aaron's there, catching me. Aaron pulls me up, holding me against his chest. Shaking and nearly crying like this is making me feel small, and that feeling isn't being helped when Aaron, the giant that he is, is holding me like I'm a child. Most of the time, I would be against it. But it's Aaron and that's who he is, so I don't mind it. "He's really got you all worked up, huh?" Aaron murmurs.

"He's pissing me off," I say into his chest.

"I think I need to have a very serious talk with him about dating my daughter."

"Don't bother," I mutter.

"What do you mean? Why?" I don't answer right away. "Clary? What did you mean?"

"Because I told him I was done," I finally answer. "I said I was done, I said we were through. But I didn't mean a _word_ of it. I still love him, Aaron, but I love him _too_ much to let Negan use him to get to me. So I have to leave him and I have to end it to make sure he's safe."

* * *

 **~Jesus~**

"You sure I can't talk you into taking the extra room at Barrington House?" I question. The only answer I get is Sasha spreading out a sheet on the couch. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you're here."

"Then make Gregory change his mind," Sasha says.

"I'm going to try," I promise, starting for the door.

"It's not good enough," Sasha snaps, and I stop.

"It's not," I agree. "But the people need me here. If it was just Gregory, it'd be worse."

"So why aren't you in charge?" Sasha questions.

"It's not me," I say, shaking my head. "I'm not a leader."

"I think Clary would beg to differ," Sasha returns, shaking her head as she sits on the couch.

"She's the leader we need. All of us. Don't get me wrong, Rick's a leader, too. I haven't known her that long, haven't seen what she can do. Not like you have. But I know that she can be a great leader, if she would just embrace it. She's a leader that thinks she's a follower."

"Clary needs you at Alexandria. If you want her to lead, you need to be there. She's only confident enough to take charge when you're around. She needs someone like you there as her right hand man."

"I said before, I can't leave."

"What if I leave? If Maggie can stay, I'll scavenge for the Hilltop. I'll pay her way, if you just keep her safe. Like Clary asked you to. Would Gregory go for that?"

"Maybe," I sigh, sitting in a chair across from her. "But I don't want that."

"Then what do you want, Jesus?" Sasha demands. "What do you want this place to be?"

I pause because I know that my dream of what this place could be is just that. It's nothing but a pipe dream. "I just try to help."

"Maybe you gotta do more."

I sigh softly, then dig the necklace I picked up out of my pocket, offering it to Sasha. "This was Abraham's. I found it here. I'm sorry. I liked him. He was… one of the only people I've ever met who could say things that make you smile and wince at the same time." I turn as there's a knock at my door. "Come in."

"Hi," Maggie says softly as she enters.

"Hey," I say, greeting her with a small smile. "I, uh, I made the bed for you and laid out some clothes. They're mine so they're more utility than comfort. They can't be that bad, since I'm pretty sure I saw Clary leave here with one of my shirts, plus the one she was wearing."

Maggie chuckles softly. Apparently, she knows more than me about Clary's habit of stealing clothes. "It's okay. We won't be here much longer."

"I'm sorry, about all of it. I'm gonna see what I can do."

Maggie pauses, then turns to look at me. "Why do you burn your dead?"

"Um, the idea was just to keep going," I answer.

"What do you have to remember them by?"

"Us." It's bullshit and I know it. I'm just parroting Gregory's words now, even though I don't agree with them. "I'll see you in the morning."

* * *

I wake when I hear the music, quickly climbing out of bed. I'm never going to be able to think of Beethoven the same way, especially not after I see why the music's playing. The gates are open, there's fires burning, and walkers are coming in. I get to the window, opening it and climbing out onto the balcony. "Jesus!" Maggie shouts, and I turn to see her standing atop the trailer. "Sasha's alone down there! She needs help!"

I climb over the railing, sliding down a column to join Sasha on the ground. I try not to smile too much as I hear Maggie barking orders to others. I fight my way through the walkers to Sasha at the car. I put my hand on her shoulder, sure that she won't be able to hear me over the music. Sasha spins, raising her knife, but I block it. As soon as she realizes that it's me, she stops fighting. "Hi," I shout.

"Sorry!" Sasha replies.

"It's okay," I assure her, trying to unlock the car. No luck. "We need to close the gates!"

Sasha nods her agreement, and we both turn as we hear the tractor. Inside, I can see Maggie. Sasha starts after her, but I catch her arm. "Sasha! She's got it. I need your help here."

She follows me as we take out every walker we come across, Maggie taking care of the car. I use my martial arts skills, fighting like we won't make it to tomorrow. I can't help but wonder if we will, but as I look around, I realize that we are. We did it, we made it. We survived.

* * *

 **~Carl~**

As Enid and I walk to the Hilltop, I can't help but think of the aftermath of the Governor's final attack against the prison. How I walked ahead of my dad, not speaking and staring straight ahead. I do the same thing now, striding silently, not sparing a glance at Enid. At least, not until she asks, "Not sorry you saw it?"

She doesn't have to elaborate for me to know what she's talking about.

"Yeah," I answer. "I watched it. Both times. I didn't look away."

"Why?" Enid questions.

I pause for a moment, searching for my answer. "Because, when it was happening, I knew I needed to remember it. So when I had a chance to kill him, I wouldn't have a choice."

"I think I'd kill him, too." It's only then that I look at Enid. "It's messed up, but… that's how it is. You do things for the one you love. Loved."

"It's not for them," I say, shaking my head. "I'm sorry I locked you in the armory."

"I didn't need to see it," Enid says, not looking at me. "We don't even know if she's okay."

"We'll get there," I assure her. "We have to. We'll make it."

Enid continues ahead of me as I step off the road, noticing a suitcase. I kneel, unzipping it and grinning at what I find. "Enid!" I call. "Stop. Come here!"

Enid turns and joins me at the side of the road, grinning when she sees the roller skates. I hand her the smaller pair, and we both quickly put them on. We tie our shoes together by the laces, hanging them over our shoulders. "Confession," I say, wobbling as I get to my feet. "I'm not very good at this."

"It's alright," Enid assures me. "Just do what I do."

So I let her take the lead, mimicking her movements as we skate to the Hilltop. I find myself grinning in response to her laughter, trying to catch up to her. She takes my hand, braking, when I almost lose my balance. "You okay?" she questions as I regain my balance.

"Yeah," I say softly, noticing our intertwined hands. Enid starts to pull away, but I keep my hand in hers. "Hey. Don't let me fall, alright?"

Enid grins. "Never."

* * *

 **~Jesus~**

It shouldn't shock me that Gregory tries to give up Maggie and Sasha, but it still does. Maybe that's why I hid them in his closet instead of the hallway one I knew he was referring to when the Saviors arrived. I watch, my arms folded over my chest as he leads the head Savior to the closet.

Gregory looks at me as he puts his hand on the doorknob, and I shake my head just enough that he'll see. But he opens the door anyway. "Are you serious?" Simon inquires.

Gregory leans into the closet, and he comes out with a bottle of scotch. He shows it to Simon, saying, "This is—"

"Scotch," Simon finishes.

"Not just scotch," Gregory says.

"Hate the stuff. Tastes like, um, ashtrays and window cleaner. I'm a gin man. But this does look like it could harden a connoisseur. Wow. What a gesture."

"You say you hate it?"

"Negan'll love this. Now, I'm gonna say it's from me, not mention you, okay? I really want the headline on this one. Okay?" I do everything in my power not to smirk at how all of this is backfiring on Gregory. Simon steps into the closet, taking the box out and looking expectantly at Gregory. "You want to slide that one back in? Sorry, shouldn't ask. You want to slide that one back in, period."

I ignore the look Gregory gives me.

"This is big, Gregory. It's huge. And I won't forget it. I really, really appreciate this. Thank you." Simon turns and walks away from Gregory, into the middle of the room with his box of booze. "Now, we're gonna go through the place and take half of what you have. But only half." Simon hands the box off to another Savior. "Take this to the Negan truck. Exeunt, gentlemen! Get to work!" Simon starts for the door, then pauses. "One last thing, Gregory." Gregory steps forward as Simon turns to him. "Could I just get a kneel out of you?"

"Excuse me?" Gregory inquires.

"Kneel," Simon orders. Gregory quickly nods, kneeling. Simon smirks, bending down to look at him. "That's a solid kneel, Gregory." He pats Gregory's head like the bitch he is. "You remember that for next time."

All of the Saviors in Barrington House follow Simon out, Gregory pushing himself onto the couch. Soon enough, it's only the two of us inside. I leave Gregory in the foyer, walking down the hall to his room. I open the door to see that Sasha and Maggie are still inside, quipping, "Who needs water into wine when you can have women in whiskey?"

The girls smirk, but the looks immediately disappear when Gregory barges in. "I told you to hide them in the _hallway_ closet," he snaps.

"No, you said 'closet,'" I say, folding my arms over my chest.

"This is my bedroom! What if they came in here before I—"

"Before you tried to give us up?" Sasha finishes.

"They would've killed you first," Maggie says.

"Honey, I'm talking to Jesus," Gregory says.

"Stop," I snap, turning back to him.

"Why are you even defending her? We're here right now because she and Sherrie and Rich didn't handle things like they said they would."

"The Saviors tried to kill you."

"That was a misunderstanding. And as soon as the Saviors leave, we get them the hell out of here before something bad really happens."

"Stop! They're staying! Or do you want to make it public? You want to make the deal with Alexandria public? Lose your plausible deniability? Lose your position?"

I've backed him into a corner with only two options. He can either stop putting up a fight and Maggie and Sasha stay, or I go public with Gregory's "plausible deniability." He questions, "So, you're gonna be in charge now?"

"No," I say. "It's just that you won't be. Maggie and Sasha are staying. I'm staying. We're all gonna be one big, happy, dysfunctional family."

Gregory chuckles, but there's no humor in his voice. "So we will be. And I'll see us through this. I made progress with them today. You saw it."

I shake my head. "Yeah, that's not what I saw."

"Yeah? Well, it's what happened." He steps around me, looking at Maggie. "We play nice, they play nice. See, dear? Saviors can actually be quite reasonable."

Maggie suddenly throws a punch, and it takes everything not to laugh at the look on Gregory's face. Maggie reaches into Gregory's pocket, pulling out the pocket watch that I recognize as Glenn's.

That son of a bitch tries to defend himself.

"It's a fine watch," Gregory says. "Doesn't need to be left out in the rain."

"This is our home now," Maggie says. "So you'll learn to start calling me by my name. Not 'Marsha,' not 'dear,' not 'honey.' Maggie. Maggie Rhee."

* * *

 **~Carl~**

I put my hand on my knife as Enid and I arrive at the Hilltop, looking at the trucks through the treeline. "I don't think Negan's here," I say, scanning the trucks. "I don't see that black truck."

"You weren't taking a drive," Enid says as it dawns on her. "You weren't coming to get me."

"I can't let them get away with this," I say. "You know I can't."

"I know."

"And Clary won't do anything. She refuses to stand up to them."

"I know."

"Come with me," I blurt, turning to look at Enid. "Clary won't. I don't think this is something she can do. But you, you want to kill them, too. We can do it."

Enid looks for an answer before finally saying, "You said it. It'd be for us. Not for Abraham, not for Glenn. Not for Maggie. You're doing it for you."

"Yeah," I say, knowing that I can't argue. "And for Clary."

"So it all goes right, and you do it, how do you get away?"

I can only hear Clary in my answer. "It wouldn't matter."

"It would to me."

I close my eye, pressing my forehead against hers. I press a kiss to her forehead, hoping that wherever she goes, Enid will be safe. As I pull back, Enid stands on her tiptoes, kissing me. I jerk away from her, and before I can speak, Enid rushes, "Please, don't go."

"I have to," I say. "And don't do that again. You know I love Clary."

"You two fought," Enid points out, "more than once. She won't even look at you, Carl. You two don't sleep in the same bed anymore. Hell, she's living with Aaron and Eric. Your relationship is falling apart!"

"Never say that again," I hiss, glaring at her. "Never. It's _not!"_

"It is! You know it!"

It is. She's right. We're done, but I'm not gonna stop fighting. Not for her, not for anything.

"That doesn't mean I've stopped loving her! I don't think I ever could. Not even if she died. And you're my friend, Enid."

"Then, come with me," Enid begs. "You can't make it."

"I'm just gonna go home," I state. "Back to Clary. I've got some things I need to tell her."

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not," I lie.

"You shouldn't go," Enid says. "But I can't stop you."

* * *

 **~Jesus~**

"When I got here, Gregory was already in charge," I tell Maggie and Sasha as we watch the Saviors leave from the windows. "Thought the people chose him for a reason. Looking at it now, I think it just happened. I didn't like how he did things, but I couldn't imagine anyone else in his place." I look at Maggie, even though I know she doesn't see me. "I can now."

"Who?" Maggie questions.

Sasha turns to look at me, both of us knowing that I'm talking about Maggie Rhee. I say, "We'll talk about it sometime." Maggie turns, realizing that I meant her. "I should've talked to Gregory sooner. I'm sorry. Hopefully, you'll let me make it up to you."

"We will," Maggie assures me, then glances out the window as the gates close. "The gates are closed."

She starts for the door, but I hold out a hand to stop her. "Wait, they're still loading up outside."

"I'll see you back at the trailer," Maggie says. I let her go because I know there's nothing I can do to stop her. Sasha takes Maggie's place by the window after she leaves.

"If you want to make it up to us," Sasha starts, and I turn to her. "Can you find where Negan lives?"

"One of the trucks is going back there," I say. "Yeah, I can do that."

"Can you keep it between us? Just you and me?"

"No Maggie?" Sasha shakes her head. "No Clary?" Another shake. "I don't like that."

"Me neither."

"Hey," I say, and Sasha turns away from the window. "If I don't make it back, will you… will you tell Clary I love her?"

"No," she says slowly, then gives me a small smile. "Make it back and do it yourself."

* * *

The Saviors really are some kind of stupid.

Not a single one of them looks up, not even as I stand on top of the wall. I watch for the box full of alcohol, remembering that Simon said to put it in the "Negan truck." Luckily, it's the one in the back. No one will see me climb in. I climb down over the wall as the Saviors start to leave, running and jumping into the back of the truck going back to the place where Negan lives.

I take a seat by the edge, looking into the box. I pull out the bottle of scotch that Simon said Negan would love, unscrewing the cap and taking a drink.

I pour it out the back of the truck.

"Hey." I look up at the sound of Carl's voice. "Fancy meeting you here."

"You've gotta be shitting me," I sigh, shaking my head before looking at him. "If we die, Clary's gonna kill us."


	7. 6: Refrain

**Chapter 6: Refrain**

 **~Jesus~**

I smirk to myself as I cut the bottom of the box of whiskey, knowing that all of the bottles will come crashing down when someone lifts it. One less thing for Negan to enjoy. I look out the plastic flaps, deciding that we're getting close. I grab a bottle of syrup, opening it and slowly pouring it out the back of the truck. "What're you doing?" Carl questions.

"Making a trail," I answer. "I think we're close." I glance at him over my shoulder. "We should bail out, follow the rest of the way. See what we can see."

"I, uh," Carl starts. "How?"

"It isn't usually the fall that gets us," I say. "It's trying to fight it. Run with it or roll with it. The truck's going slow enough. We'll be in the blind spot. We can race behind one of the other cars."

"I'm not like you," Carl rushes. "If I screw up and we get caught—"

"It'll be fine," I quickly assure him. "We just gotta go now."

"Okay," Carl agrees. "Show me first."

I nod, glancing back at him to make sure he's watching. I jump out, rolling as I hit the ground and quickly getting to my feet. I duck behind one of the abandoned cars, watching for him to follow and getting ready to help him if I need to. Instead, I see Carl standing there, holding the flaps aside as he waves to me. I scoff, shaking my head. "'Show me first.' What a little shit." I chuckle. "No wonder Clary likes you."

* * *

 **~Carl~**

Jesus was right. We were getting close.

Negan's place is definitely giving me the "don't fuck with us" vibes, but it doesn't scare me off. Not even the walkers chained to the fences do. It's not the scariest thing I've seen, not by a long shot.

I take a gun from the pile, a large semi-automatic machine gun that resembles the one I used with my dad back at the prison. I check to make sure it's loaded, getting ready for the fight that's coming. I look up from the gun when I hear Negan outside the truck, saying, "Okay, boys, let's get this haul unloaded and inside."

I hide myself behind the crate I hid behind last night, aiming my gun and waiting for my moment. A Savior pulls aside the plastic, tying it back as he climbs up in. He picks up the box Jesus had cut into earlier, the whiskey inside dropping to the ground and shattering. "Son of a bitch!" the Savior curses, then turns and see me behind a crate. "What the hell?"

I fire on him and a second Savior, the latter diving out of the truck while the other drops dead. I jump up, rushing to the edge of the truck, gun raised. "Stay back!" I bark. "Drop your weapons! I only want Negan. He killed my friends. No one else needs to die."

I scan the crowd of Saviors for Negan, then hear his whistle come from my right. I turn, following him with my gun as he moves. "Damn." He walks behind his men, constantly moving so I can't get a good shot. "You are adorable." Negan pulls one of his Saviors in front of him to act as a shield. "Tell me, kid, did you pick that gun 'cause it looks cool? You totally did, didn't you? I ain't gonna lie. You scare the shit outta me."

A Savior tries to rush me, but I'm faster and fire on him. He drops dead, but another Saviors tackles me from the side before I can get a shot in. I land on my back, dropping my gun as I try to fight off the Savior on top of me. I stop when my own gun is aimed at me, recognizing Dwight above me. "Kid," he growls.

"Dwight," Negan says. "Back the fuck off. Is that any way to treat our new guest?" Negan stops above me, extending a hand for me to take. "C'mon, kid, I'll show you around." I only glare up at him, not taking his hand. "You know, you do the same damn stink eye as your dad, except it's only half as good 'cause… well, you know, you're missing an eye."

I still ignore Negan, instead looking around. I know that if I get out of this place alive, Clary will want to know everything. Not only are there walkers chained to the fence, but they have people working alongside them. No, not people. Prisoners. _Daryl, where are you?_

"Really? You're really not gonna take my hand? 'Cause you're lucky you even still have a hand. Same as your boy, Daryl. I shoulda just made your girl cut it off. Maybe I will." He turns to Daryl, who watches me from the fence. "How's the job goin', Daryl? Hot enough for ya? Yeah, it'd be tough with one arm."

It's only then do I take his hand, worried about anything further happening to Daryl. He pulls me to my feet, chuckling. "Ah, smart kid! Now, come with me. Dwighty-boy, why don't you grab Daryl, take him to the kitchen, do a little grub prep. New plan, boys. Let's burn the dead, unload the truck later."

I tune out Negan as he says something about a wife, instead studying the exterior of his base as I put my hat back on. The place used to be a factory, judging by the looks of it. _Oh, why do all the bad guys have to have old factories as their headquarters? That's just really cliché. And boring._ I look back to Negan as he motions for me to follow him, starting towards the door.

"What are you gonna do to me?" I question.

Negan turns, telling me, "Number one, don't shatter my image of you. You're a badass. You're not scared of shit. Don't be scared of me. It's a disappointment. Two… you really want me to ruin the surprise? Screw you, kid. Seriously. Screw you."

So I follow him up the stairs and inside, looking down at the Saviors on the warehouse floor below. "Check this out," Negan whispers.

He strolls to the railing, and even though I can't see his face, I know he's wearing that trademark smirk of his. As soon as the Saviors see their leader, they all kneel. I step up to the railing beside him, and I can't help but wonder why anyone would want to live this kind of life.

Negan calls, "The Saviors have gone out into the world and fought the dead and come back with some really good stuff. Some of that stuff can be yours if you work hard and play by the rules. Today, everybody gets fresh vegetables at dinner. No points needed." There's applause, and Negan turns his back on the Saviors, looking down at me. "You see that? Respect. Cool, huh? Are they still on their knees?" I nod once. "As you were!"

The Saviors stay on their knees a moment longer as Negan walks off, and I find myself understanding Negan as I imagine these people kneeling before me. No wonder he does shit like that. It's enough to make even the most cowardly feel like a god.

* * *

I was _not_ expecting Negan to have a roomful of beautiful women walking around, but at the same time, I'm not even remotely surprised. It seems like the exact type of thing that Negan would do. I stand awkwardly in the room, not really looking at any of the women, as Negan speaks to a brunette.

I'm more than a little confused when Negan hands me a bottle of beer because I don't know exactly what I'm supposed to do with it. Do I drink it? Am I just holding it? What would Clary do? _Well, it's alcohol, so you know she'd drink it. Don't do that._

Sometimes WWCD just doesn't work.

So I play it safe and just hold Negan's beer while he talks to a crying blonde. After a minute, he goes back to the brunette. I watch as she says, "You're an asshole."

"I know," Negan says with a grin. "But the messed up thing is, you like me anyway. You know the truth, just like me."

Negan leans forward, kissing the brunette as Dwight arrives. I turn, reading all of Dwight's facial expressions and movements. He's not very subtle. This girl, the brunette, means a lot to him. _She's his wife,_ I realize. _Or she was, anyway._

Then, I see Daryl next to him, carrying a tray of food. I almost speak to him, but I don't, not knowing what Negan would do. Daryl doesn't give a shit, though. He mouths, "Clary?"

I cross my arms over my chest, hiding my hand as I give him the universal sign for okay. Daryl closes his eyes as he breaths out a silent sigh of relief. He turns away from me before anyone can notice our unspoken communication. Negan makes his way over to Daryl, using a toothpick to eat a grape off of the tray. "Carl," Negan says. "Will you grab this tray for me?"

Daryl turns, meeting my gaze as he offers the tray to me. I take it, glancing down at the food on it for a second before breathing, "Jesus."

I meet Daryl's eyes, watching as they widen. He knows what I really meant by the single word. I was telling him that I wasn't alone, that Jesus came with me. But to Negan, it just sounds like I was surprised to see food like this.

Daryl immediately turns to Negan, demanding, "Why do you got him here?"

"Whoa!" Negan exclaims. "What we talk about when you're not here, that's none of your business. Do _not_ make me put this toothpick through the only eye he has. You go with Dwight. He'll get you a mop. Dwighty boy, fire up that furnace. I'll be down in a few. It's time for a little deja vu."

"What're you gonna do to him?" I blurt, unable to look away from the scar on Dwight's face and worrying that they're gonna do the same thing to Daryl. "Please, don't kill him. You know Clary would never follow you if you killed her brother."

"Relax, kid," Negan says. "I'm not gonna do shit to Daryl. Say, where is the tiger? Back home?"

"She's out," I say, "searching for stuff for you."

Negan grins. "Ah, I love it! She's doing the work she's supposed to do! She follows the rules. C'mon, kid."

I glance towards Daryl as Negan walks out the door. I start to follow him, and Daryl gives me a nod as I pass him. He knows that my words about Clary were meant to let him know that she was okay, that she was still alive. I give him a slight nod in reply. Daryl got the message meant for him.

* * *

 **~Aaron~**

I'm the first one awake in the trailer, Rick still snoring away. Clary's so still I have to wonder if she's faking, but I find that she's not faking sleep when I look down at her. She's still fast asleep, her back pressed against my chest. I know I should wake her so we can get going, but I can't bring myself to. I haven't seen her sleep this soundly in a while, or sleep at all. Even that first night with Eric and I, I know she didn't sleep much.

I start to push the blanket off of us as I get up, but Clary whimpers in her sleep at the cooler air. I quickly slip out, then tuck the blanket back around her. I pull my boots on and tie them, reaching over to shake Rick awake. "What time is it?" he questions, rubbing his eyes.

I shush him, both of us glancing over to see if he woke Clary before I whisper, "Five thirty. Can we wait? I don't want to wake her yet."

Rick nods, and Clary turns in her sleep. She reaches to the spot where I had been, mumbling something that sounds a lot like "dad." Rick and I look at each other, and I start to get to my feet as Clary stirs, barely awake. Through her sleep, she questions, "Where's my dad?"

I freeze, glancing over my shoulder at Rick. He gives me a nod and gestures with his hand as if to say, "All yours." I turn back to Clary and she looks over her shoulder at me, taking my hand. "Clary, who am I?" I question.

"You're my Aaron," she murmurs, closing her eyes. "You're my dad."

She pulls my hand down, clutching onto it as she falls back asleep. I have to sit beside her so I don't fall onto her as she wraps her arms around mine, and I find myself looking back at Rick in the hopes of receiving any advice. He doesn't give me any.

"You heard that, right?" I question, and Rick nods. "She called me her dad."

"She called you her dad," Rick echoes. "I never thought she'd be like that with anyone. I never thought she'd care that much."

"Then you really don't know her at all," I say, shaking my head. "Maybe she was right about you back in that barn. You never looked at her as anything more than a weapon, Rick. You haven't sees how she really is, not until now."

"I've known her a lot longer than you."

"But you don't _know_ her. What's her favorite album?"

"Probably something by Metallica, I—"

" _IV,_ " I interrupt. "Led Zeppelin. It was the album that played when Merle died."

"How do you…"

"Because I _know_ her," I answer. "She told me and Eric about everything because we're family. Look, you might've survived with her for two years, but you never looked past her cold as hell facade. Underneath all that anger, she's a sweetheart. Underneath the soldier front, she's still just a kid. She might be a leader, but, above all, she's a child soldier." Clary lets out a whimper as she tightens her grip on my arm, squirming under the blanket. "Clary? Hey, Clary?"

She wakes with a gasp, looking up at me with wide eyes. Clary unwraps her arms from mine, instead wrapping them around my waist and burying her face in my stomach. I rest my hand on her back as Rick looks over at us with a raised eyebrow, and I shake my head at him. "Aaron?" Clary whispers.

"I'm here," I say. Clary lets out a sigh, pulling back to lay with her head in my lap. "You good?"

"Gotta be," she immediately answers.

"Cheyenne."

Clary reaches up, resting her hand on the side of my face. "I am. I'm good."

"Good," Rick says, getting to his feet. "'Cause we got a big day ahead of us."

My glare towards Rick goes unnoticed. Since Clary's moved out of their house and broke up with Carl, he's been becoming increasingly colder towards her. It's not fair, and it's not right. I start to push Clary out of my lap to get up and say something to Rick, but Clary rests her hand on my arm, shaking her head. A silent way of saying he's not worth it. I don't say anything, even though I should. Clary probably saved his ass that night we met Negan, stepped up when she didn't have to. Clary hasn't had a chance to properly grieve, as she was closer to Glenn and Abraham than Rick ever was. And how does he treat her?

He still fucking looks at her like she's a weapon. And the worst part is, I don't think he realizes that he's doing it.

"I should," I whisper, glancing down at Clary as we get to our feet. "It's not right."

"Let it go, Aaron," she mutters. "I can take it." I start to open my mouth to object. "Don't. Let's just make it through today."

Clary follows me to the trailer door, pulling on her jacket as I open it. "Huh," I say, catching sight of a fence and sign down the road. "Didn't see that last night."

"Didn't see what?" Rick inquires, stepping out of the truck with us. He leads the way to the fence, Clary following along beside me as she rubs her eyes, trying to wake up. We stop at the fence, reading the sign. _KEEP GOING. ONLY THING HERE 4 YOU IS TROUBLE._

"That's welcoming," Clary mutters. "Like Morgan's knives."

"What?" I question.

Rick, however, must know exactly what she's talking about because he snorts in amusement. "Or the ' _TURN AROUND AND LIVE.'"_

"Oh, I forgot about that one," Clary says. "Yeah, I just remember the welcome mat with the knives under it." I look down at her. "It's a long story."

"We have today and only today to find something," Rick says. "They could be back by tomorrow. Could be back now."

Clary climbs over the fence, looking at us from the other side. "Then what're you waiting for?"

* * *

 **~Carl~**

"Ah, I can't do it," Negan says from where he sits on a couch across from me in his room. "It's like talking to a birthday present. You gotta take that crap off your face. I wanna see what Grandma got me."

I glare at him, saying, "No."

"Two men!" Negan barks, then exhales slowly. "Two… men. Punishment. Do you really want to piss me off?" Slowly, I take my hat off, placing it on the coffee table in front of me. I reach behind my head, unwrapping the bandage. "Almost there." Negan chuckles as I take the bandage, dropping it to the ground. "Get that hair out of your face. Let me see."

My lip involuntarily quivers as I brush my bangs back, tucking them behind my ear to reveal the scar left behind by Ron's bullet. If the bullet had been an inch farther to the left, it would've missed me completely. But it didn't, instead taking out my eye and part of my socket.

"Christ!" Negan exclaims. "That is disgusting! No wonder you cover that up. Have you seen it?" I hang my head, not meeting Negan's eyes. "I mean, have you looked in the mirror? That is gross as hell! I can see your socket! I want to touch it. Oh, come on. Can I touch it?" He sits back, sighing. "Damn. Holy hell, kid. Look, I just… it's easy to forget that you're just a kid. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or anything." He sighs again as I look up. "I was just screwing around."

"Just forget it," I whisper.

There's a knock at the door, and Negan hesitates for a moment before calling, "Come in."

The door opens, a heavy man stepping through with Lucille in his hands. "Sorry to interrupt, sir, but, uh, you left Lucille out by the truck."

"Seriously?" Negan asks. "I _never_ do that. I guess a kid firing a machine gun is a little bit of a distraction." Negan looks back to me. "All jokes aside, you look rad as fuck. I wouldn't cover that shit up. Hey, how did it happen?"

"I took a bullet for my dad," I respond.

Negan whistles, promising, "I swear to you, no one is gonna fuck with you looking like that. You wanna keep your girl safe? Keep the bandage off. No one will even _think_ of coming near you. No, sir." Negan turns to the other Savior. "Fat Joseph, did you carry her all the way up here for me?"

Fat Joseph smiles and nods. "Yes, sir."

Negan gestures to him to hand over Lucille, and Negan takes the bat in his hands before looking up at Fat Joseph again. "Were you gentle? Were you kind?"

"Uh…"

"Did you treat her like a lady?"

"Mm, yes," he answers. "Yes, sir."

"Did you pat her little pussy like a lady?" Negan inquires, and Fat Joseph is at a loss for words. Negan chuckles. "I'm just screwing around, man. A baseball bat doesn't have a pussy!" Fat Joseph chuckles. "Get the hell out."

Fat Joseph leaves without a word, and Negan turns back to me. "See? That's what I'm talking about. Men breaking each other's balls. This is the shit your dad's supposed to be teaching you." Negan twirls Lucille in his hands, sighing. "What do you like to do for fun? You like music? I want you to sing me a song."

"What?" I question, the idea of it ridiculous.

"Yeah! You mowed down two of my men with a machine gun. I want something in return for that. Sing me a song."

"I can't think of any," I try.

"Bullshit!" Negan exclaims. "What'd your mom used to sing you? What'd your dad play in the car? Does your Clary sing? What does she sing?" Negan gets to his feet, pointing down at me with Lucille. "Start singing."

Shakily, I sing the first two lines of "Hey Jude," as I remember Clary singing it to Judith. Negan drops Lucille away from my chin, telling me, "Go on."

" _Remember to let her into your heart  
_ _Then you can start to make it better"_

Negan lets out a grunt as he swings Lucille, causing me to stop. "Do not let me distract you, young man," Negan tells me.

" _Hey Jude, don't be afraid  
_ _You were made to go out and get her  
_ _The minute you let her under your skin  
_ _Then you begin to make it better"_

I flinch in fear each time Negan swings, thinking that he's about to kill me the same way he killed my friends.

" _And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain  
_ _Don't carry the world upon your shoulders  
_ _For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool  
_ _By making his world a little colder"_

"That's pretty good," Negan compliments. "Beatles. Nice. Lucille loves being sung to. It's about the only thing she loves more than bashing in brains. Weird, huh?" Negan takes a seat on the edge of the coffee table that used to be between us, looking down at me. "Did your mother sing that to you?"

"No, my mom was never a Beatles fan," I answer with a shake of my head. "Clary, she sings it. She sang it after my mom…"

"Damn," Negan says softly, understanding what I meant without having to say it. "Dead, huh? Before or after the start?"

"After."

"You see it happen?"

"I shot her," I say. "Before she could."

"Damn, no wonder you're a little serial killer in the making." I look up at him. "That was an example of breaking balls, by the way. Come on, kid. Get up. It should be ready."

"What should be ready?" I question as Negan gets to his feet.

Negan looks down at me with a grin. "The iron."

* * *

I thought Negan was brutal when he killed my friends with a baseball bat. I thought he was horrible when I realized that all of his wives were just women that he forced to sell themselves for their families or their lives. But after watching him iron the face of one of his own people, I know that there is no shred of humanity in Negan's sick and twisted mind.

For some reason, sitting across from Negan while he writes in a notebook is more terrifying than having to sing while he practiced swinging Lucille. With that, I knew what was going on. Now, I can only sit and wonder what's going to happen to me.

"Can I wrap up my face now?" I question.

"No, you absolutely cannot," Negan answers, looking up at me.

"Why the hell not?!" I demand.

Negan chuckles. "Look at this badass. You can't because I'm not done with you." I glare at him. "And I like looking at your disgusting, rad-ass, badass eye, so it's staying out." Negan sits forward in his seat, putting his notebook on the couch beside him. "What? You got something to say?"

"Why haven't you killed me?" I ask. "Or my dad? Clary, Daryl? Why haven't you killed us?"

"Daryl is gonna make a good soldier for me," Negan replies. "You see, you think he's holding it together but you saw him. Your dad's getting me stuff. Clary? Well, you said it earlier yourself. She's off getting me stuff. We both know that's not her true calling, don't we? Thirty-seven, right? How many she's killed? She's a badass like you. Even more badass than you, and that's saying something. I want her with me."

A disgusting thought comes to mind first, and I blurt, "Clary would _never_ become one of your wives!"

"What?" Negan questions. "Fuck no! I mean, she's a little young for my taste, but the option's still there. But that's not how I want her. I want Clary on my crew, and not the way she is now. I don't want her gathering shit for me. I want her as my mercenary. You, on the other hand… Well, we shall see. It's more productive to break you. More fun, too. You thinking that's stupid?"

"I'm thinking we're different," I say.

The answer seems to amuse Negan, as he chuckles. "Hey, kid, I want you to do something for me. Real simple. I want you to ask Clary if she's had her bad day yet."

"Her 'bad day'?" I repeat.

"She'll know what I meant. And you? What do I do with you? You're a smart kid. What do you think I should do? You know I can't let you go. So, do I kill you? Iron your face? Chop off your arm? Tell me. What do you think?"

I stand, pointing at the window as I growl, "I think you should jump out the window to save me the trouble of killing you."

Negan chuckles, clapping his hands. "Now _there_ is the kid that impressed the hell out of me!"

"I think you're not saying what you're gonna do to me because you're not going to do anything," I say, leaning down to look in his eyes. "If you knew us, if you knew anything, you _would_ kill us. _But you can't_."

"Maybe you're right," Negan says. "Maybe I can't." He claps his hands, and I straighten as he stands. "Let's go for a ride, kid."

Negan grabs Lucille, and I follow him out of his room. He leads me through the factory, gesturing for me to get in a truck. I climb in, sitting in between Negan and another Saviors. As we start to leave the factory, the truck slows to a stop. Negan leans out the window, calling, "Daryl!"

Daryl steps forward, looking past Negan at me. I give him a nod, which goes unnoticed by Negan as he says, "You seem worried, so I'm taking the kid home."

Daryl threatens, "You do anything to him, Clary won't hesitate. She'll kill you."

"Dwight!" Negan barks. "Daryl needs a time out. Put him back in his box for a while."

As Dwight drags Daryl away, Negan raises his hand, flipping him off. I look out the side mirror to see Daryl looking at something above the truck, and it takes me a second to realize what it is he's looking at, even if Negan doesn't. Daryl's looking at Jesus.

 _Be careful, Jesus. Bring Daryl home._

* * *

"How about this one?" Negan questions, gesturing towards a door.

I freeze because that's the door to Judith's room, blurting out the first lie I think of. "That's just a water heater."

"Are you serious, kid?" Negan questions, opening the door anyway. He stops short, a grin quickly growing on his face as he sees my baby sister. Negan hands Lucille to me, stepping forward to look at Judith. "Oh, look at this little angel." Negan chuckles as he picks her up. "Oh, my. What's your name?"

"Judith," I answer. "Don't—"

"Kid," Negan interrupts, looking around Judith at me. "Don't even _think_ about finishing that sentence. You really think I'd hurt this little cutie?" Negan starts out the door, carrying Judith. "C'mon, kids, let's take a walk."

So I follow him, out of the house and down the street. He says hello to everyone we see as if we're just a normal family out for a Sunday stroll. As we start to pass the Raleigh place, Eric steps out onto the porch. "Carl!" he calls, starting down the stairs.

I step away from Negan and Judith for a moment, meeting Eric at the sidewalk. "Carl, what's going on?" Eric questions. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," I answer. "Mostly."

Eric's eyes flick down to Lucille in my hands, and he breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that it's clean. "Good. When we realized you were missing… Oh, boy. No one wanted to be the one to tell your dad or Clary when they get back."

Negan steps onto the sidewalk behind me, questioning, "Who the hell is this?"

"Negan, this is Eric Raleigh," I say. "He and Aaron have, uh, taken Clary in because Daryl's with you. She didn't have anyone else."

"She's an orphan?" Negan guesses. "Huh. Makes sense, I guess."

"Her brother raised her. She's always been an orphan. Up until Aaron and Eric took her in, that is."

I notice Eric's look of panic too late, a look that screams, _Carl, shut the fuck up! You're running your mouth and putting us in danger!_ Beside me, Negan huffs, and I realize how _majorly_ I just fucked up. I just gave Negan something more to use against Clary.

 _Oh, Clary, get back here soon._

* * *

 **~Clary~**

We abandoned the trail as soon as we crossed the fence, instead following in the woods. I lead the way out, climbing over a boat trailer. Rick and Aaron are right behind me, all of us keeping an eye out for the man that wrote the sign at the fence. I turn, looking over my shoulder at Rick and Aaron as I come face to face with a much larger sign. It lists the weapons he has, plus more threats. "This guy's armed," Rick notes. "Food, supplies, ammo."

"'The only way that you have made it this far without being shot is that I am dead,'" Aaron reads.

"'Have at it, assholes,'" I add. "Well, he's definitely dead. Don't worry 'bout it."

"You're basing that on the fact that we haven't been shot?" Rick questions.

"Rick," I say, turning to look at him. "I'm basing it on the fact that there are no fresh tracks." I shake my head at him. "Christ." I lead Aaron and Rick onwards, but I stop short as I see the lake, saying, "Oh, we're gonna need a bigger boat."

"We're gonna need a bigger _everything_ ," Aaron says, taking in all the walkers in the lake. I count at least two dozen, but there's probably more.

"My god," Rick drawls. "I've ever seen anything like this. And we've seen a lot."

"I have," I say, thinking of the farm. "Once. And it was nothing like this. There was only one, but it was even more dangerous 'cause it was stuck in a well. We had to get it out of the well before we could even kill it."

"At least you didn't go down it as live bait," Aaron remarks.

"Yeah, uh, about that," I sigh, scratching the back of my head.

"No," Aaron says, turning to look at me. "What the hell, Clary?! You could've died!"

"I, uh, I nearly did." I glance to Rick, my hand tightening around the twenty-two that hangs around my neck. "Shane saved me. Shane and…" I cut myself off, swallowing before trying again. "Shane and Glenn." I look out at the walkers, my hand dropping from my necklace. "It's the damn well walker all over again. Alright, let's go. I got this. I'll distract 'em, take 'em out. You guys get across. Don't look back. No matter what you hear."

I drop my bag to the ground, pulling my jacket off before placing my crossbow on my shoulder. It's not until I kneel to untie my shoes that Aaron realizes that I'm a hundred percent serious about distracting the dead.

"Hey, Clary, stop!" Aaron cries. "Just stop! We can do this. Together! Look, down there." He points down at something by the water, and I follow his finger. "See? There's a boat. We can cross. _Together._ I promised Daryl that I wouldn't let you do stupid shit. Shit exactly like this. So tie your boots and get your crossbow. We're doing this together, Cheyenne. Whether you like it or not."

"Alright," I say with a grin. "Let's kick it in the ass."


	8. 7: Hearts Still Beating

**Chapter 7: Hearts Still Beating**

 **~Clary~**

"It looks like he protected his supplies," Aaron remarks, noticing how far the boat is across the lake.

"Looks like they're still protected," Rick says as I kneel, retying my shoes.

"Today and only today, right?" Aaron questions.

"Yeah." He looks down at the boat as I reach out to touch one of the bullet holes, looking up at Rick. "All these bullet holes, it'll take on water quick."

I stand, pointing to a canoe a little over halfway between the shore and the boat. "We could probably make it there, if we haul ass," I say. "We'll probably be able to make it to the canoe."

"Probably," Aaron agrees.

"If you two want to stay back," Rick starts, glancing over at us.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," Aaron returns, walking back over to the sign as Rick looks at me expectantly. I gesture to Aaron as he kicks the boards, breaking one in half. I say, "What he said."

I take one of the broken boards as Aaron takes the other, looking at the pointed end of it. "A paddle and a weapon all in one," I say. "Awesome."

"We're seeing this through," Aaron tells Rick as I hand him the board I carry. "We all are."

Together, we push the boat off of the shore and into the lake, quickly climbing in. Rick takes the front, steering, while I stay in the middle to take out any walkers. As soon as we start paddling, water starts coming in through the bullet holes. "Man, we could really use some of that Flex Seal shit," I mutter.

"Phil Swift here," Aaron says. "Watch it, on the left."

"Just keep paddlin'," I order, sinking my knife into the head of a walker on my left. "I got the walkers."

So they keep paddling, occasionally taking out the walkers that I can't reach. "We're taking on water!" Rick calls. "And fast!"

"Keep goin'!" I bark, the canoe getting closer. "Just get to the canoe!"

Aaron notes, "We're almost there."

We line our boat up beside the canoe, Aaron reaching across to pull it closer. He lets out a cry of surprise as a walker appears, jumping back. I come to his aid, driving my knife into the walker's head and falling into the boat with it. I push the corpse into the water as Rick starts to make the cross. Even though I wasn't there, the group told me about it, away from Sasha's ears. As a walker pulls Aaron out of the boat, into the water with it, I remember the food bank. I remember how Bob was bitten when a walker pulled him under. _No, no, no, please no. I can't lose him._ "Aaron!" I shriek.

He comes up a few feet away, walkers swimming towards him. I drop my crossbow in the canoe, reaching across to pull the sinking boat towards me. "Cheyenne, no!" Aaron shouts. "Stay in the canoe!"

"Hold on!" Rick calls.

"Aaron!" I cry, climbing into the sinking rowboat to reach him, stretching towards him. "Hurry!"

And then he's reaching for me, and I reach even more, nearly falling out of the sinking boat. _Come on, just a little bit more! Come on, Dad!_ And then walker grabs Aaron from behind, pulling him under the water. I let out a scream of horror, terrified because there's nothing I can do. But I still have to to try. I try to go after him, but Rick stops me, grabbing my shirt and pulling me back. He falls on his back in the canoe, pulling me with him, as I struggle on top of him. It takes Rick wrapping his arms and a leg around me to keep me in the canoe. I fight him with everything I have, but it's just not enough. It's not enough, and if I don't get in there, I'm going to lose him.

"No!" I shriek. "Let me go! I need to help him! Aaron!"

"I'm okay!" I calm just a little when I hear Aaron's shout. "I'm all right!"

Rick releases me then, trusting that I won't jump in after Aaron. Rick and I grab paddles, though it's Rick doing all the work as I'm preoccupied with keeping my eyes on Aaron. I watch his back as he swims for the houseboat, and I only start helping Rick to paddle when Aaron reaches it, climbing up the ladder at the back of the boat. He lies on his back, panting, as I scramble to climb up from the canoe. I collapse on top of Aaron, Rick crawling on the boat behind me. I push myself up, close to tears, as I check Aaron for bites. "Are you okay?" I manage. "You bit?"

"I never knew you cared this much, Clary," Aaron jokes.

"You're all I have left," I whisper, laying back down on him, and he wraps his arms around me. I close my eyes, listening to the heart that's still beating. "Tell me you're okay."

"I am," Aaron assures me. "I'm okay." He breathes out a sigh, sounding like he's reassuring himself more than me as he whispers, "I'm okay. I'm okay."

* * *

 **~Carl~**

Negan makes me set the table while he cooks spaghetti in our kitchen. I glance over at Judith every now and then, who sits in her highchair next to the island. I set a fork and knife on the left side of the plate out of habit. I pause, looking down at it as I realize my mistake. Clary's not in Alexandria, and if she was, she wouldn't be dining with us now that she lives with Aaron and Eric. I quickly fix it before Negan sees, putting the utensils on the right side of the plate.

I look up as Olivia enters the house, catching a glimpse of Tara leaving our porch. Negan turns when he hears the door, grinning when Olivia holds up the can of lemonade mix that Negan likes. She quickly makes it as Negan finishes the spaghetti, and I help him carry the pasta and rolls to the table. Negan sits at the head of the table, Olivia carrying Judith when she falls asleep, and I move her highchair for when she wakes up.

We sit around the table for quite a while, sitting in silence. Finally, Negan sighs, saying, "I'm not waiting for your dad anymore. I don't know where the hell he is, but Lucille is hungry." He puts Lucille in the place my dad was supposed to sit. "Carl, pass the rolls." I glare at him. "Please."

I give in, passing him the rolls.

* * *

 **~Daryl~**

I can't stop looking at the note that was slipped under my door. "'Go now,'" I murmur, reading it yet again.

On the other side, the key to my motorcycle and a bobby pin is taped to the paper. Carl said that Jesus was with him, and I caught a glimpse of him on top of Negan's truck. I barely know the guy, but he skipped out on his free ride out of here to help me. He's the only person that I can think of that would want to help me escape.

I slip the motorcycle key in my pocket, using the bobby pin to pick the lock. I leave the note behind, making sure Clary's note is in my pocket before I leave. I slip out the door, looking down the hall for any Saviors.

I stick to the wall, and I can hear two Saviors arguing in a room up ahead. Glass breaks, beer flowing out the door. I back up, looking around for a place to hide. I duck inside a room, pressing my ear against the door. I wait, listening for anyone coming to the door. No one comes. I turn looking inside the room. I check to make sure I'm alone, quickly realizing that I'm in Dwight's room. I take a jar of peanut butter, eating it, as I strip out of the clothes the Saviors gave me, stealing some of Dwight's. They'll be enough to get me out of here, but I'm planning on burning them as soon as I have my clothes.

As soon as I finish eating, I take a baseball cap off of Dwight's wall and flip his chess set off a table before leaving. I have nothing but a knife as I make my way down the same hall I used to try to escape before, this time picking up a pipe as I make my way down the hall.

I push open the door leading outside, looking around for any Saviors before exiting. I run for my motorcycle, ducking down when I think I hear footsteps. I look up, recognizing the Savior that has walked over as Fat Joey. "The hell?" he questions.

I straighten, knowing that I've been seen, but I don't back away. Instead, it's Fat Joey that raises his hands in surrender, saying, "Whoa! Whoa!" I start to make my way over to him, my hand tightening on the pipe. "It's cool, I swear. Buddy, you can walk right out that gate there, and I won't say anything to anybody." I don't take my eyes off of him as he points to where he just came from. "I'm supposed to be there now, but, listen, I-I'm just trying to get by. Just like you."

"You ain't like me," I growl.

"Please!"

I don't give him another chance to beg, swinging the pipe. I beat him to death with it, just like his leader killed my friends. I think I hear someone say my name, but it doesn't stop me. I don't stop until there's nothing left of Joey's head. "Daryl," a voice repeats.

I look up, eyes widening as I see Paul Rovia standing there. He softly says, "Daryl…"

"I'm good," I say, dropping the bloodied pipe. I look back down at Joey's body, seeing a familiar revolver in his holster. I lean down, picking up a fully loaded Colt Python. _Rick's._ I tuck it in my jeans, telling Fat Joey's body, "It ain't just about gettin' by here. It's about gettin' it all." I look up at Jesus. "C'mon, I got the key. Let's go."

Jesus picks up a walkie talkie before starting over to me, seemingly unsure about climbing on behind me. "Jesus," I say. "C'mon!" He climbs on my motorcycle behind me as I rev the engine. "Now, let's get out of this shithole."

* * *

 **~Carol~**

Against what's probably my better judgement, I let Morgan in. And then, I let Richard in when he says he wants to talk. So we sit around my living room, Richard in a chair across from me and Morgan at the other end of the couch.

"A lot of places came together after the world fell apart," Richard says. "Maybe you're both from one of those places. Most of those communities and camps are gone now. I lost people. I pretty much lost hope in people. But then I found the Kingdom. I met Ezekiel. I saw what he built. But now I believe that what he built is under threat."

"The Saviors," Morgan guesses.

"The Saviors," Richard confirms. "A few months back, Ezekiel and a few guards met a group of them in the woods. The Saviors recognized Ezekiel's capabilities, and Ezekiel didn't want to fight, so they cut a deal. In exchange for food and supplies, no one would get hurt, and they'd never set foot inside the Kingdom. Very few of us even know."

"What does any of this have to do with me?" I question.

"I know Ezekiel likes you. I also know that Ezekiel trusts you, and that's why I'm here. I need you to help me convince him of something. Right now, we have peace with the Saviors, but sooner or later, something's gonna go wrong. Maybe we'll be light on a drop, or maybe one of ours will look at one of theirs the wrong way, or maybe they'll just decide to stop honoring the deal. Things will go bad. And when they do the Kingdom will fall. I had a family. I lost it to this world. I saw them die. I'm scared that if we don't do something now, that we won't only lose more people—we'll lose everything. I know what the Saviors are, and I know what they do. And I know they cannot be trusted. And I think you know that, too."

"What exactly are you asking?" Morgan questions.

"I'm asking you to help convince Ezekiel to attack the Saviors. To strike first. And destroy them." Morgan and I share a look. "Okay, I know there's a lot of them. I'm guessing a good deal more than we have at the Kingdom. The element of surprise is our only hope. We need to attack first, and we need to do it now while we still have the advantage. Carol, I imagine that violence and fighting is something you haven't been a part of."

"You're wrong," I tell him.

"You're _very_ wrong," Morgan adds, knowing exactly what all I've done. "She's probably the most capable fighter in this room."

"Then it's time to fight!" Richard cries.

"No," I say with a shake of my head. "This is something that I am _not_ a part of."

"Then you don't have to fight. You just have to convince Ezekiel to bring the Kingdom to fight."

"You're not understanding me," I say, getting to my feet. "I didn't want you, I didn't want Ezekiel or Morgan coming here. I don't want _anything_ to do with your lives or your deaths. I just want to be left alone."

Richard sighs, getting to his feet. Morgan says, "People will die. A lot of people."

"You killed a man," Richard points out.

"I took a life to save a life," Morgan counters.

"It's the same goddamn thing! We'll be taking their lives to save ours!"

"Only you don't know that it will."

"You're gonna choose to kill one day, Morgan, 'cause it will get that bad! Why not choose now, before you lose someone you care about?"

"There's a peace now. I won't be a part of changing that. And maybe we can build on that."

"Not with these people!" Richard snaps. "When they turn on us, and they will, that blood is gonna be on your hands!" He starts for the door, opening it then pausing. "But maybe you're both used to that."

He leaves then, the door shutting behind him. I look down at Morgan from where he still sits on my couch. "You should go, too," I tell him.

"I should," Morgan says, getting to his feet.

"I don't want anyone else coming around or even knowing where I am. If you somehow see anyone we know, tell them I'm gone. Do that for me. Please."

Morgan sighs. "I never meant for you to see me."

* * *

 **~Clary~**

I glance over my shoulder at Aaron as I stack the food we found on the boat, giving him a small smile. He returns it, reaching out and resting a hand on my arm before he goes back to searching the cupboards. Since we got on the boat, I've had to keep taking his hand, just to reassure myself that he's still here. Aaron caught on quickly, making sure to initiate some form of contact whenever he's within arm's reach.

He opens a plastic tote, scoffing at something inside. I turn as Aaron holds up a drawing of a middle finger with the words "Congrats for winning but you still lose!" written on it. "Bit of a sore loser," Aaron remarks.

I can't help but chuckle, finding it funny. "Oh, come on. We have to keep it."

Aaron pauses for a moment, giving me a stern look before giving in. "Fine."

I think he was going to keep it anyway.

"Looks like the only thing he ran out of was ammo," Rick says, checking the clip of a semi-automatic machine gun. "We've got to get this back now."

I follow Aaron and Rick outside the cabin, practically glued to Aaron's side. "Well, he's got paddles," Aaron says, looking around. "With the wind picking up, it shouldn't take long to drift back to shore."

"Alright," I agree. "Let's go."

We each take a paddle, Rick raising the anchor while Aaron and I begin to paddle. It doesn't take much, not with the current flowing the way we want to go. It doesn't even take ten minutes for us to reach the shore. We anchor it as close to shore as it can go, crossing from the back of the boat to the shore with a ramp. "Someone should stay with it," Rick says, climbing off the boat. "Make sure no one comes by to steal it. Clary, you're the best when it comes to hand to hand. Will you stay while Aaron and I—"

"No way in hell," I rush, grabbing Aaron's arm. "No."

Aaron looks down at me before back up to Rick. "Are you against going on your own?"

"I'll be back soon," Rick promises, turning and walking back towards the truck.

Once Rick's out of earshot, Aaron turns to me. "I should kick his ass."

"Don't," I say, shaking my head. "That's Rick. That's who he is. He's trying, he really is, but it's habit. He's so used to me doing whatever the fuck he says without a moment of hesitation, without showing my feelings. He automatically assumes that I agree with him because I don't say anything. And then when I almost lose my family, whenever I realize that Rick is the one putting them in danger, I _can't_ follow his orders anymore. I can't do what he wants. For years, I've followed beside him as an equal, not a child."

"Just because you're a kid doesn't mean you're not equal," Aaron points out. "I mean, you know that, right? You're sixteen, but your mind's older. You're every bit an equal, but at the same time, you're still a kid."

"I am _not_ a _child._ This world has forced any of that out of me. You could give me all the fucking Kid Cuisines and Happy Meal toys you want, but I'm _not_ a child anymore. Hell, I never have been."

"Either way, he doesn't see it. He doesn't see that you're young, that you're scared."

"I'm not _ready_ to lose you, Aaron," I whisper, wrapping my arms around his waist. I press my ear against his chest, hearing his heartbeat and knowing that he's still with me. "Not today, not tomorrow, not ever."

"I'm okay, Chey," Aaron assures me. "I'm still here."

"I used to know someone," I murmur, "that died because a walker pulled him underwater. And when I thought that happened to you…"

"But it didn't," Aaron rushes, kneeling to look up at me. "I'm still here, Cheyenne." Aaron takes my hand, pressing it against his chest. Beneath my hand, I can feel his heart beating. "You feel that? My heart's still beating, Chey. I'm here."

I let out a shaky sigh, nodding. He stands, his hand still wrapped around mine on his chest. "Everything okay?" Rick questions.

Aaron and I jump in surprise, reacting without realizing who spoke. I draw my knife while Aaron pushes me behind him, holding out his knife. I was so focused on Aaron that I didn't even notice Rick backing the truck up or climbing out of it. "Wow," Rick remarks. "Someone's jumpy."

I breathe out a sigh, shaking my head as Aaron and I put our weapons away. We get to work unloading everything off of the boat, stacking it by the back of the truck as Rick opens the door. Rick gives Aaron a hand carrying a heavier tote into the truck, telling him, "You know, back there, I didn't mean that you couldn't do it. It's just going this far, risking this much to get things for _them_ … people don't agree with it. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't."

"I was there," Aaron says. "I saw what happened on the road. What we're doing is gonna keep people living. We get to do that. Doesn't matter what happens to us." I feel Aaron's eyes on me as I stack a tote in the truck. "Not as long as she lives."

"Michonne doesn't think this is living," Rick says.

I sigh, turning back to them. "Committing to a choice like this, after living like we did, I get it. This ain't life. It's servitude. They own us 'cause there's power behind their threat."

"It's hard," Aaron adds. "It's giving up everything, right up until your own life. But either your heart's still beating or it isn't. Your loved ones' hearts are beating or they aren't." Aaron sighs, offering me a hand as I climb out of the truck. "We take what they give us so that we can live." I take his hand, and he suddenly pulls me down from the truck, catching me before I hit the ground. He looks down at me, adding, "And you and I, we need to talk."

I wrap my arms around Aaron's neck as he carries me to the front of the truck, pausing before he puts me down. "Aaron?" I question.

Aaron sighs softly, looking down at me. "Cheyenne, I want you to know that I'm willing to do whatever the Saviors want, and I mean _anything,_ to keep you safe. I don't care what it is. Not as long as your heart's still beating."

* * *

The gates are rolled open for us as we reach them, but not by people I immediately recognize. Then, I catch a glimpse of another truck like ours inside. "Oh, shit," I say, immediately know who these people are. "He's here."

I follow Rick out of the truck as Aaron drives it in, Rick asking the Savior at the gate, "Where is he?"

"Negan?" the Savior questions. "He's in your house, asshole. Waiting for you."

Rick and I share a look, starting inside. I don't bother to tell Aaron where I'm going. He knows that I have bigger problems than checking in with him while the Saviors are here. A Savior puts a hand on my shoulder, stopping me and Rick. "Whoa, hey," he says.

I want to snap at him. I want to break his fucking arm for thinking that he and his dirty band of criminals can touch me. Rick puts a hand on my arm, and I don't snap, instead waiting for my moment. The Savior removes his hand, asking, "Just like that? See, we've been waiting for _hours_ just to see what you're gonna bring us. Why don't we have a look first?"

So we have to wait, not knowing what in the hell Negan's doing, while the Saviors unload the truck. The bald Savior, Gary, remarks, "Not bad."

"We had to go out pretty far," Aaron tells them.

"The hell's this?" the girl, Laura, questions. I turn, my stomach dropping when I see she's holding the note. I get the feeling she's not going to think it's as funny as I did. "'Congrats for winning, but you still lose'?"

She hands it over to the creep that thought he could touch me, David. I suddenly remember him as being the same one that was harassing Enid. He starts for Aaron, demanding, "You leave us a little love note?"

I start, "We—"

Before I can even get a word in to defend us, David cuts me off. "I'm not talking to _you_ , little miss. I'm talking to him." He turns back to Aaron. "Well? Did you?"

"No, I just," Aaron stutters. He chuckles nervously, backing up as David steps towards him. "I mean, we wouldn't, obviously—"

"Wait, wait, wait," David cuts him off. "Did you just say it's obvious?"

He grabs the front of Aaron's shirt, who lets out a cry as he shoves him back against the truck. I start forward, and Aaron holds out a hand to stop me. "No, Clary, don't." He turns back to David. "We didn't do that."

"It's not about the damn note," David growls.

"Hey," Rick starts.

"Don't," Gary says, stepping in front of us to block us from reaching Aaron. "Run along to Negan, Rick, Clary." Gary walks over to Aaron, patting him on the shoulder. He suddenly spins, punching Aaron with an uppercut that makes him double over in pain. He cries out, falling to the ground. "But your friend here, he's got no place to be."

I start forward, but Laura appears in front of me, barking, "Back up!"

I don't stop, trying to fight to get to Aaron around her. She shoves me back, but Rick catches me before I can hit the ground. She aims a gun at me, but that doesn't stop me. "No!" I shriek as Gary kicks Aaron, showing no mercy. "Aaron!"

Rick wraps his arms around me, holding me back, as Laura shifts her gun between Rick and I. My voice breaks, and I can't stop myself from crying as I shriek, "No! Please, no! Aaron! Please! Stop this! Please!"

"You're alright," Gary says, lifting Aaron by the front of his shirt before throwing a punch that sends him to the ground again. "You're alright." He stops, but David gets in another kick. "Alright, alright, alright. Point made."

Gary steps over Aaron as he groans in pain, starting towards Rick and I. He scoffs, shaking his head when he sees the tears on my cheeks. He motions for Laura to follow him, and she lowers her gun as the trio of Saviors walk away. I run to Aaron, jumping over him and kneeling, taking his face in my hands. "Aaron?!" I cry. "Aaron, you with me?! Please, say something!"

Rick arrives then, slinging Aaron's arm around his shoulders and helping him sit up. "My heart's still beating, right?" Aaron questions, his blue eyes on me. "Chey…"

I close my eyes, choking back a sob as I duck under his arm, helping Rick get him to his feet. I'm not much help when it comes to supporting Aaron, as I'm a foot shorter than him, but I keep myself pressed into his side. I'm wary of touching him, not wanting to cause him further pain, but wanting to reassure myself that he's there. I press my hand against his chest, calming myself as I feel his heart beating under my hand. "I'm so sorry, Aaron," I tell him. "This never would've happened if I didn't bring that stupid note back."

"It's better me than you," Aaron manages. I don't stop apologizing the entire way, but we all freeze when there's a gunshot in the distance. The three of us share a look, and then we're moving as fast as Aaron can to get to the origin of the shot.

"Arat," I hear Negan say as we approach. "Kill somebody."

"No, it was me!" Rosita shrieks, but she's too late.

A Savior, Arat, pulls her gun and aims for where Carl and Olivia stand, firing. "Carl!" I shout as the gun goes off, but he doesn't fall. Instead, it's Olivia that Arat chooses. "No!"

Rick and I pass Aaron off to Eric as soon as he reaches us, running to meet Negan. To Rick, I say, "I got this."

"He's all yours," Rick replies.

"You!" I bark, pushing in front of Rick. "Negan! We had an agreement!"

"Clary!" Negan exclaims. "Oh, and there's Rick! Look everyone! Look who decided to show!" He chuckles, shaking his head. "Oh, your people are making me lose my voice doing all yelling."

I'm only half listening as I look at everything surrounding me, eyes widening as I see Spencer's body by a pool table in the middle of the street. I look back up at Negan as he says, "Rick, how about a thank you?" Rick and I look at each other before back to Negan. "I mean, look. I know we started this relationship with me beating the holy shit out of your friends and because of that we're never gonna sit around and braid each other's hair or share our deepest, darkest secrets, but how about a little credit? I just bent over backwards to show you how reasonable I am." Negan looks between me and Rick. "Your little boy toy, your kid, he hid in one of my trucks and machine gunned a bunch of my men down, and I brought him home, safe and sound. _And_ I fed him spaghetti."

Rick and I turn to Carl as he stands on the porch, and I shout, "What the _fuck_ , Grimes!"

I turn as Negan taps my shoulder, fighting myself with every fiber of my being not to knock him on his ass for even _thinking_ that he can touch me. He gestures down to Spencer as he says, "Another one of your people, well, he wanted me to kill you two and put him in charge. I took him out, _for you._ Another one," he points to Rosita on the ground, "she shot Lucille, trying to kill me just now. So I gave you one less mouth to feed. And by looking at her, that mouth did some _major_ damage. I, personally, I wouldn't have picked her to be the one to go but Arat, oh, I don't know, didn't trust her."

"Your shit's waiting for you at the gate," Rick growls. "Just go."

"Sure thing, Rick," Negan says as he holds up an empty bullet casing. "Right after I find the guy or gal that made this bullet. Arat?"

I turn to the Savior just as she raises her gun in the direction of the two that have taken me in. Eric raises a hand, as if he's trying to reason with her; but Aaron's already pulling Eric away and trying to push himself in front of his boyfriend. I don't hesitate to abandon my post at Rick's side. I've already come close to losing Aaron twice today, and I _have_ lost others. I'm not ready to lose these two. I put myself between Arat and my family, using one hand to push the gun to the side, away from us so it wouldn't hit anyone if it went off. I throw a punch with my other hand, knocking Arat down. I pull her gun out of her hands, aiming it down at her. "You don't fuckin' touch my parents!" I bark.

The Saviors' guns shift to me, Carl crying, "No!"

"Do not fire!" Negan barks, and I don't know if he's talking to me or his Saviors. "Don't shoot that girl!" Negan struts over, circling Aaron and Eric like a shark. "No. We don't have to threaten her directly. We got the Orphan's keepers right here."

"The name's Raleigh," I say as Negan steps in front of me. I instantly raise Arat's gun on him. "And you don't touch them."

Arat's on her feet before I can stop her, pushing the gun up. She knees me in the stomach, pulling the gun out of my grasp and shoving me backwards. Rick's there, catching me before I can fall. He keeps a hand on my shoulder, a silent gesture that, to Negan, looks like he's keeping me under control, but he's really just keeping me on my feet. "No," he says. "I told you to leave, Negan!"

"And I said I would," Negan replies. "As soon as the person that made this bullet steps forward."

I know it was Eugene, but he's family and I've already expressed that I'd defend him. I step forward, saying, "You want someone? Alright. It was me. You want blood. I get it. Take it from me, man. You don't touch the rest of my people. Not anymore."

"No!" Tara cries, stepping forward. _Oh, fuck, she's back and knows about Denise._ "It was me!"

"Tara, don't," I tell her, holding a hand out to tell her to back off. "It was me."

Negan snorts. "No, it wasn't. Arat."

Aaron and Eric duck down as Arat fires without aiming, and I feel a pain in my temple as I fall back. There are cries from the group as Aaron and Eric catch me between them, Aaron crying, "No!"

I open my eyes to the concerned and terrified faces of my parents, and I hiss, "Oh, that bitch is _fuckin' dead_."

"Clary, don't!" Eric cries as I step away from them. "Rick!"

Eric reaches forward to grab my arm, grasping my wrist. For the third time that day, Rick has to hold me back. To Arat, I shout, "Shoot me again, bitch, and you'd best fuckin' pray I'm dead!"

"I don't need to pray," Arat retorts, starting to raise her gun. "I missed once. I don't miss a second time."

Rick's hand on my arm tightens as I wrap my hand around Eric's wrist. With my other hand, I wrap it around Rick's arm as I realize she won't hesitate to kill me. Rick pleads, "No, don't."

Negan puts a hand on top of Arat's gun, shaking his head. He tells her, " _You_ don't kill her."

"Stop this!" Eugene shouts. He's crying as he comes forward, admitting, "It wasn't her." Negan steps over to him. "It was me. It was completely me."

"You?" Negan questions.

"It required one shell casing, one four-holed turret reloader, powder, one funnel for the powder—"

"Shut up," Negan says, cutting him off. "I believe you." He steps away from Eugene, raising Lucille and sighing deeply. "Lucille, give me strength." He sighs again, turning towards Rick and I. "I'm gonna be relieving you of your bullet maker. That and whatever you left for me at the front gate. And however much you scavenged, it's not good enough because you're still in a serious, serious hole after today." To his Saviors, he barks, "Let's move out!"

"No, no, no!" Rosita cries, begging. "Please, just take me! No!"

The Saviors lower their guns, forcing Eugene to go with them as they leave. "Rick," Negan says, "I ain't gonna lie. Your kitchen is a goddamn mess." He chuckles, turning to leave. "I'll see you next time."

Then, the Saviors are gone. It takes Eric a long time to let go of me, and he only does so after I promise to be home soon. Everyone walks off, leaving Rick and I, still clutching each other, alone. He looks down at me, wiping blood away from my temple. "She just grazed you," Rick murmurs, assuring himself more than me. "You're okay. You're okay."

We turn as the familiar growling begins, Spencer reanimating. I draw my knife, stepping away from Rick. "I'll do it," I say, stepping over to Spencer. "I'm sorry this happened to you."

Even if he wanted Rick and I dead, Spencer was still part of Alexandria. As part of Alexandria, he was a part of my people. In just over a week, I've lost four of my people, five if you include my brother, to the monster known as Negan. Yet at the same time, he tried to sell us out to Negan.

I kneel next to Spencer as he starts to sit up. "You fuckin' traitor," I hiss, driving my knife into his temple. "Fuck you."

Rick rests his hand on my shoulder as I clean off my knife, sliding it back into its sheath. "C'mon," he tells me, pulling me to my feet. "Go home. Aaron and Eric are waiting."

"I'll see you around, then," I say. Rick pats my arm as we part ways, each heading to our houses. Aaron and Eric wait for me in the living room, wrapping their arms around me in relief that the three of us are alive for another day. I look up at Aaron, saying, "I don't know about you, but I _really_ need a shower after that lake."

Aaron nods his agreement, and they release me. I climb the stairs, taking a new set of clothes into the bathroom with me. The water's still cold as I climb in, and I cross my arms until it finally heats up. The bathroom steams up rather quickly, and I wrap a towel around myself as I get out, standing in front of the mirror. I use my hand to wipe away some of the fog, my eyes drifting to my newest tattoo over my heart. I run my fingers over the tattoo that I had Daryl help me with a little over a month back. We were both sitting around one rainy day, bored out of our minds. Logically, we decided to get some ink and needles and give each other a tattoo. Daryl had finally fulfilled his promise of getting a _veritas_ tattoo on his forearm to match the _aequitas_ on my hip. I shake my head, trying not to think about my brother.

Once again, my eyes drift to the three letters on my chest. _J.S.S._ "Jesse, Sam, Sebastian," I whisper to myself. "Y'all are lucky it's done and over for you."

I quickly get dressed, and as I start to dry my hair, I find myself thinking of Glenn. I step out into the hallway, leaning over the railing as I call, "Hey, do either of you know how to braid?"

"No, but I'm a quick learner," Eric says, appearing at the bottom of the stairs. "You talk me through it, I'll be good."

"Yeah, I can do that," I say. Eric climbs the stairs, sitting on the edge of the tub while I sit on the floor below him. I talk him through it, Eric figuring it out pretty quickly. I look down at my hands as Eric braids, softly saying, "Glenn used to braid my hair. He was the only boy in his family, he had a couple sisters. He learned to do their hair for 'em. He liked to braid mine, even after I cut it."

"Oh, yeah. You used to have really long hair. I forgot about that."

"Never cut it during all of this, until we got here. Glenn, when he was nervous about something and I was nearby, he'd just start playing with my hair. It calmed him, reminded him of before."

"I remember seeing him do that before," Eric says. "On the way to Alexandria, I could see you two in the RV, how he kept braiding and unbraiding your hair." There's a slight tug as he puts the hair tie around the end. "Alright, done."

Eric gets up, then pulls me to my feet. "Thanks. I can braid my hair, but my shoulder still hurts a good bit."

"No problem, Katniss."

"Oh my god, Eric. Just because I use a crossbow, which might I add is _completely different from a longbow_ —"

"Leader of the revolution, right?"

I stop at that. "I'm the leader of the revolution?"

"If not the face," he replies. He gestures towards the door with a nod of his head. "C'mon, Rick's downstairs. He wanted to talk to you."

"Then, let's go," I say. I pick up my crossbow from beside the door, walking downstairs. When I see Rick, I know that we're finally on the same page: war.

* * *

"Clary?" Carl questions, his arms crossed as he stands in front of me. I sigh, sitting back on my motorcycle. I don't look at him, instead toying with a loose string on my fingerless gloves. "Clary, can we talk?" I look up at him as I bite the string off, gesturing for him to continue. "I have two things."

"Well, we're gettin' ready to go, so make it quick," I say.

"Ok, um, first, Enid kissed me."

That takes me back. Enid and I have been pretty tight in the months following the walkers in Alexandria, but I never suspected that she had feelings for Carl. Part of me wants to punch her for it, but the other part wants me to encourage her to go after him. If he's with Enid, it keeps him away from me and away from being used by Negan to get to me.

I don't give Carl any time to read into my reaction, almost immediately returning, "And that effects me how?"

Carl pauses at my words. "So this break is actually…"

"A break up. Yes. You told me not to come home. So for that, fuck you, Carl Grimes. And what's your other thing?"

"When I was at the Saviors' place," Carl says, and I sit forward, interested. "I was with Negan the entire time. And he wanted me to ask you something. He wanted to know if you had your bad day yet?"

I curl my hand into a fist so tight that I'd cut my palm if it weren't for my gloves.

"Clary?"

"That motherfucker," I say, shaking my head. "He'll _know_ when I have my bad day. I'll be him, alright, 'cause I'll use that fucking bat of his to bash his fucking head in."

* * *

Maggie appears at the watchpost by the gate, looking down at us with a grin on her face. She turns back into the Hilltop, yelling, "Sasha! Enid!"

A minute later, the gate opens; and I lead the way inside, the rest of the group behind me. Rick and I greet Maggie with a hug, Rick asking, "How are you?"

"I'm okay," she replies. "The baby's fine."

I catch movement by one of the trailers out of the corner of my eye, dropping my stuff in shock as I see who it is. I'm already in tears as I take off towards him, shouting, "Daryl!"

Daryl takes a few steps forward and holds out his arms, bracing himself. He still has to take a step back, though, as we collide. We both hold on tighter, and I'm sobbing like a baby as I bury my face in his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "It's my fault."

At the same time, I'm whispering, "It's not on you. I'm so sorry, Daryl." He goes silent when he hears his name, and I notice him shaking, struggling to keep it together. "It's okay, kemosabe. Let it out. It's okay. I'm here. We're together." Then, we're both crying after having been apart for what seems like forever. Eventually, he pulls back, looking down at me. He wipes the tears off my cheeks, his thumb brushing over the scar from the sniper at the prison. "How?" I ask. "How'd you get out?"

"It wasn't on my own," he says. Daryl keeps one arm around me, using the other to point to the long-haired, bearded wonder as he turns to him. "Jesus. He, uh, he helped me."

I hold out an arm, beckoning Jesus towards us. I tell him, "C'mon. Get in here." Jesus hesitates, obviously worried about intruding. "Please. I can't thank you enough, Paul. I can't even begin to. I owe you _everything_. You brought my brother back."

"C'mon, man," Daryl tells him.

Jesus gives in, wrapping his arms around both of us. "Hey, Jesus?" I ask.

"Yeah?" he questions.

"I think I can say you're a Dixon now. Welcome to the family."

"I'm honored."

"Damn right you should be," Daryl huffs. "I think I speak for the both of us when I say thank you. You took care of Clary for me."

"Well, it wasn't just me," Jesus admits. "Aaron hardly left her side."

"Which reminds me," I say. "Daryl, I'm supposed to tell you that Aaron and Eric are our parents now. They've adopted you as their dirty, feral, man-child."

Daryl chuckles softly, and I have to smile because I made him happy after all that he's been through these past two weeks. "Never, not once, did I think I'd hear that sentence," Daryl admits. "Where are they?"

"Back in Alexandria. Aaron's okay. They both are."

"Something happened." Daryl pulls back, looking down at me. "What happened?"

"Saviors," I say. "Beat the hell out of Aaron. Arat aimed a gun at 'em both and I freaked."

"I guess that explains this," Daryl murmurs, brushing his thumb under the graze from Arat.

"Daryl," I hear Rick says behind me, breathless.

My brother takes a step back, and I drop my arm from his. He steps towards Rick, and the two don't have to speak for Rick to voice his question. _You good?_ Daryl gives him a nod, then bows his head, trying not to start crying again. Rick steps forward, wrapping him in a hug, while Maggie and Sasha reunite with the others. Carl gives Enid a small smile, and she hugs him. Carl looks up to me, and I turn away. I broke up with him, I ended it. Whatever the hell's going on between them is none of my business. Carl gives Enid a quick hug before running forward to meet Daryl. My brother looks slightly surprised at the contact, but hugs him nonetheless. Over Carl's shoulder, Daryl holds out a gun for Rick to take. It takes me a moment, but I realize that it's Rick's signature Colt Python. _Watch out, Negan. The Sheriff is back in town._

Daryl hugs the others as soon as Carl releases him, Tara and Michonne both kissing his cheek when they hug him. Jesus suddenly wraps his arms around me from behind, pressing his cheek into my shoulder; and I let out a gasp of surprise. "You're still breathing," Jesus whispers. "Daryl's still breathing. Your hearts are still beating."

"Thank you," I whisper, turning to hug him. My voice shakes as we both tighten our embrace, clutching the other's shirt so we don't let go. "Thank you doesn't even begin to describe it."

"Then don't thank me," Jesus says. He lifts his head, and I look over my shoulder to find him sharing a look with Sasha. Jesus looks back down at me, loosening his hold. He still keeps his hands on my arms, making sure I don't go too far. "Clary, you know I'd do anything for you. You know why, right?"

"Because you're a good person?"

"Because I love you, Clary. Okay? Not in a specific way. I really care about you. If I didn't make it back, I wanted Sasha to tell you for me. I wanted you to know."

There was a vow that I made to myself after we arrived in Alexandria. I told myself that I'd stop telling people that I loved them, because horrible things happened to the people I love. I've gone for nearly three months without having said "I love you" a single time, and now, I'm breaking that vow. I wrap my arms around him again, whispering, "Love you, too, Paul."

Daryl rests a hand on my back, and I let go of Jesus. My brother nods once to me, then gestures with his head up to Barrington. I take my usual place beside Daryl as we head towards the doors of the Barrington House. From where Jesus walks on my right, he asks, "What're they planning?"

I keep my eyes forward, looking straight ahead as I answer.

"All out war."


	9. 8: All the King's Men

**Chapter 8: All the King's Men**

 **~Clary~**

"No! No way in hell!" Gregory exclaims, shaking his head at us when we propose another partnership for taking out the Saviors. "You people swore you could take the Saviors out, and you failed. So any arrangement we had is now done, null and void. We aren't trade partners, we aren't friends, and we never met. We don't know each other. I owe you nothing. In fact, _you_ owe _me_ for taking in the refugees, at great personal risk."

"Oh, you were very brave staying in here while Maggie and Sasha saved this place," Jesus retorts. "Your courage was _inspiring._ "

Gregory turns to him. "Hey, don't you work for me? Aren't we friends?"

"I work for her," Jesus answers, indicating he means me with a nod of his head.

"Gregory, we already started this," Rick says.

"You started it," Gregory argues.

" _We_ did," I say. "My people saved _you_ , saved some of your people. My people took out an outpost for _you_. We're in this together. And we're gonna win."

"These are killers!"

"So am I."

"But—"

"Is that how you want to live?" Rick questions. "Under their thumb, killing your people?"

"Sometimes we don't get to choose what our life looks like," Gregory says. "Sometimes, Ricky, you have to count the blessings you have."

"How many people can we spare?" Maggie questions. "How many people here can fight?"

"'We'?" Gregory repeats with a laugh. "I don't even know how many people we have, Margaret."

"Apparently, you don't know their names, either," I remark. Jesus elbows me, and I glance over to see him trying not to smirk while shaking his head. "Honestly, what kind of leader are you?"

"Does it even matter?" Gregory says. "Does it matter how many people I have? I mean, what are you gonna do? Start a platoon of sorghum farmers? 'Cause that's what we got. They grow things. They're not gonna want to fight."

"You're wrong!" Tara exclaims. "When people have the chance to do the right thing, they usually step up. I mean, people just—"

"Let me stop you before you break into song," Gregory interrupts.

I snap, "You're gonna sit your bitch ass the fuck down before I _make_ you. _That's_ what you're gonna do."

Gregory looks to Maggie, Rick, and finally Jesus before asking, "Are you _really_ gonna let her talk to me that way?"

All Jesus says is, "Park it, Gregory."

Gregory frowns, but sits. "By the way, who would train all this cannon fodder?" All at once, Sasha, Rosita, and I speak up, volunteering to train them. "Rhetorical, okay? I don't want to know."

"You don't want to know," I question, "or you're scared to know?"

I've backed Gregory into a corner, just like I did when he made the first deal.

"I never want to hear another word about any of it, ever," he says, whining like a toddler.

"Would we be better off without the Saviors, yes or no?" Rick snaps.

"Yeah, sure, okay," Gregory says.

"So," Michonne says, "what will you do to fix the problem?"

"I didn't say we had a problem. You did. And what happens outside of my purview is outside of my purview."

"What the hell, man?" Daryl questions. "You're either with us or y'ain't. You're sittin' over there talkin' out both sides of your mouth."

"Definitely see the family resemblance," Jesus mutters to me. I elbow him in the side, shaking my head.

"I think I've made my position very clear," Gregory says, getting to his feet. He knows he can't argue any more, as we've managed to trap him in a corner in a round room. "And I want to thank all of you for not being here today and not having this meeting with me or being seen on your way out. In other words, go out the back."

I turn to leave, holding both of my hands high above my head and flipping Gregory off. "Nice touch, Clary," Rosita remarks as we walk out of his office. "Fucking walking ballsack."

"Does he even have any?" I question. "Balls, I mean?"

"Wanna knock that idiot's teeth out," Sasha adds.

"Yeah, well, we don't need him anyway," Daryl says as we gather in the foyer.

"That's right," Rick agrees. "'Cause we have Maggie, Sasha, and Jesus here."

"And," Maggie starts as the door opens, "Enid."

We turn to see Enid walking in, starting, "Hey, um…"

"What's wrong?" Sasha questions.

"Nothing," Enid answers. "Just… come outside. There's something you're gonna want to see."

So we follow her out the front to find a group of Hilltop residents standing before us. "What's going on?" Maggie questions.

A woman that I recognize as one of the people we saved steps forward. "Hey," she says. "So, if you don't remember, I'm Bertie. And I owe my life to you all, twice over. A bunch of us do. Enid says that you want Gregory to get us to fight the Saviors with you. Is that true?"

"Yes," Maggie answers.

"Do you think we can we, that we could really beat them?" Maggie nods. "Enid says that you could show us the way. I'm ready."

There's agreement from the other freedom fighters, though some of them still seem a little unsure. "We need to fight," Jesus states, noticing how they're all nervous. "It's not a debate anymore. It's plain and simple. Under Gregory, we used to stand aside and let the Saviors do whatever the hell they wanted, let them take whatever the hell they wanted. I'm done doing that. If you fight, I'll be right there beside you. I know some other people. I'll rally them, join you. Enid's already rallied some people."

Rick pauses. He's still doubting the decision to go after the Saviors, even though we both know it's the right one. "Are you sure?" Rick asks the people from the Hilltop. "It's a lot more dangerous that you might think. We'll lose some people. I don't want to lose any more of us. Of our family."

"You'll lose more if you _don't_ fight," I argue. "We've got a shot we can't throw away! Yeah, we might lose some people in our fight, but that's inevitable. Our deaths are a real possibility during the fight for freedom. The price of freedom is high, but that's a price I'm willing to pay. I'm willing to fight, and these people, they are, too. And I can't speak for everyone on this front, but I'm more than willing to risk myself, life and limb, for our freedom."

Jesus grins as he wraps his arm around my shoulders, squeezing them. "What you've done and what you're capable of, that's why I'll follow you anywhere. Even if we don't have the numbers."

I give him a smile as the people that Enid rallied part, making way for us as we leave Barrington House. "Well, we find the right stuff," Daryl says, "then maybe we don't need the numbers. Blow 'em up. Burn 'em to the ground."

"You said there weren't just soldiers with the Saviors," Tara says. "There were workers there. People that didn't have a choice."

"Tara, I know you got a background with that kinda thing," I call up. "That don't mean nothin'. They ain't you. Negan and his men are worse than the Governor ever could've been. Gov only threatened, Negan does."

"I didn't have a choice. They don't either."

"Yeah, but we gotta win," Daryl objects.

"We need more hands," Rick says. "Another group. Negan has outposts. The geography, the distance, it works against us."

"Not necessarily," I say, and they all stop, turning to look at me. "Have y'all ever heard of island hopping?" I get blank stares. "No? Okay. It was a thing we used in World War II. The U.S. hit the bases on the outer islands controlled by Japan, took them first. They would jump from one island and then hit another, working their way in until they reached Japan. That's what we have to do. Hit the farthest outposts first, blitzkrieg style. One after another. We don't give 'em time to recover. We go in, take 'em all out. We work our way in until we can take out the _Death Star_. But we gotta plan first."

"We need to know the places where they'll be," Rick says. "We can make Deanna's place our H.Q. That's where we'll plan. We gotta get back. They'll come looking for Daryl. We need to be there."

"You don't have to get back," Jesus says, causing us all to stop before we can leave. "Not yet." He holds up a walkie-talkie. "It's one of theirs. Long range. We can listen in. Keep track of 'em."

"So, if we're not going back, what _are_ we doing then?" Michonne inquires.

"You're gonna stay here," I say, stepping forward. "I was already planning on going on my own before I found out Daryl was here. And I know he's in good hands, so I'm still gonna go. I have to go." I look to Carl. "Look, you were right about one thing, Carl. Negan made me kneel, and I don't do that for _anyone_. I don't bow down." I look back around at the rest of the group. "I'm a fighter. I'm not one to stand back."

"But you're smart," Tara says. "You know when you've been beaten. You know not to do stupid shit because it might be a lost cause."

"It's not a lost cause, okay? We can't lose hope, Tara. If we lose hope, then it'll tear us apart. I've seen it starting to happen. But we _can_ beat them. All we need are more people and more weapons. Look, Jesus, you said the Hilltop ran out of _ammo_. You never said anything about guns. But guns are useless without ammo, and we used to have the ability to make them. Then, they took the one man that could. We lost Eugene, and with that, the capability to make ammo."

"Even if we had guns, had ammo, they'd be useless without people," Michonne points out. "These people here, they're not fighters. We're down by quite a few, and every man counts. We need people."

"That's, uh, that's why I'm leaving," I tell them. "There's other settlements. Jesus has said it himself. He's told me more than he's told you." I share a look with Jesus, and he nods once, telling me to go on. "In private, Jesus told me about this one not too far from here. They can be a pretty big player on our board if we rally 'em. They've got guns, horses… They've got what we need. They call themselves the Kingdom. It's time for me to go looking for 'em."

Beside me, Jesus chuckles. "What a coincidence," he says. "I was just going to say that I think it's time to introduce you to Ezekiel. King Ezekiel."

"King?" Rick questions.

"We'll leave soon."

"If I go on my own, I can make the trip faster," I say, then turn to Jesus. "You've told me where. I want to scout ahead."

"It's dangerous," he says. "Going alone. Things could go wrong."

"Paul, we _need_ Ezekiel. We need everything he has. All the King's horses, all the King's men, all the King's guns. We _need_ him."

"Clary…"

"You know I've done things even more dangerous than this. This risk will be worth it! I know it."

"You remember where it is?" I nod. "We'll see you later."

I start towards the gate, and Daryl runs forward, taking my arm. "Wait," he pleads. "Don't go alone. I'll come with you."

"Daryl, I think this is one of the things I gotta do on my own," I say. "I know I just got you back, but I have to make sure I won't lose you again. That's why I gotta go ahead of you. Please, stay back. You just got back with everyone else." He shakes his head. "Hey, I'll see you later."

We press our foreheads together, each of us placing a hand on the back of the other's neck, holding the other in place to ensure we don't pull away. "Just stay alive, Cheyenne," Daryl begs. "Stay alive."

"I'll be alive," I promise him.

"I love you, Clary," Daryl whispers. His voice shakes when he says it, obviously having thought that he'd never say it again. There's so much emotion behind it that it's hard to pinpoint exactly what Daryl's feeling, but I still understand it. I feel exactly the same way. There's incredible amounts of relief that the Dixons have been reunited, but also a massive fear that the Saviors are going to take one of us away.

"Love you, Daryl," I reply. "More than anything."

We wrap our arms around each other, neither ready to let go yet. "Daryl," I hear Rick say, and Daryl looks over my shoulder at him. "Why don't you go with Clary? I think you two deserve some time."

Daryl and I look at each other, and I break the silence by saying, "I talk to Ezekiel first. No ifs, ands, or buts. You wait outside the room. I'll come get you when it's time."

"You got it," he agrees. "Let's go. We're burning daylight."

* * *

 **~Daryl~**

We made it to the Kingdom, the guards at the gate nearly shooting us before Clary told them she was a friend of Jesus's. I mean, it didn't help when Clary nearly shot one of them because he looks like the Governor but with two eyes. The Governor's lookalike, Richard, took her to meet the man in charge, and now I stand outside the auditorium, pacing in worry because I'm not with her. A boy around twenty stands out here with me, leaning against the wall. He sighs, pushing his dirty blond hair out of his face as he says, "Buddy, if you keep pacing any more, you're going to wear a hole in the floor."

I stop, turning to look at him. "Who the hell are you?"

"Who the hell are you?"

"I asked you first."

"I'm Benjamin."

"Daryl."

"Daryl? As in Daryl Dixon?"

I reach for my knife, assuming this guy's a Savior if he knows my name. "How the hell do you know who I am?"

"Morgan told me!"

"Morgan's here?"

"He told me how you raised your sister. I'm in the same spot as you. I'm the only one left to take care of my little brother and I have _no idea_ what I'm doing. Got any tips?"

"Uh…" I trail off, because I mostly just winged it myself. Before I can make a bullshit excuse, a roar cuts through the air. It's followed by a scream that I immediately recognize as Clary's from the time she scared the hell out of me by screaming while watching a horror movie with Glenn and Tara. I shout, "Clary!"

I rush past Benjamin, tearing into the auditorium and down the aisle until I reach Clary. She's on her back, trying to scramble away from the stage. I kneel behind her, asking, "What happened? Are you alright?"

She grabs my hand, still staring at something past me, up on the stage. I turn as I hear chains, freezing when I see a _fucking tiger on the fucking stage._ I slowly stand, stepping in front of Clary. Clary gets to her feet beside me, crying, "God fucking dammit! Jesus never told me he has a _fucking tiger!"_

The man on the stage, who I'm assuming to be Ezekiel, chuckles at our reactions. "My fair lady, you have a mouth on you," he laughs. To the tiger, he says, "Shiva, settle down. It's alright." He turns to us, giving us a grin. "Do not worry. Shiva is well trained. She will not attack." His gaze shifts to Clary. "I'm assuming you are acquainted with Paul Rovia?"

"He told me about this place. Your Kingdom, Ezekiel. We're going to war, and we need your help."

"My dear, I don't even know your name."

"Cheyenne Clarissa Dixon," she says. "My friends call me Clary. This is my brother, Daryl."

"And you're from the Hilltop? Both of you?"

"No, we're from Alexandria," I say, speaking now. "Clary, uh…"

"I'm the leader," Clary finishes. "Well, co-leader. You'll meet the other later. Jesus is bringing some of our people, including Rick."

Ezekiel sits forward in his throne, grinning. "Now, my dear, I'm interested in knowing how someone as young as you are is in such a position of power. Not that I'm doubting you. You seem very competent."

"I haven't been leader long," Clary says. "Not long ago, we, uh…" Clary looks away for a moment, swallowing before continuing. "Negan killed some of our friends. Important people, especially to me. I took the reins that night, hoping to protect Rick. I said I took it from him, tried to make Negan think I was the _only_ leader. He wasn't fooled. Still killed two of our friends. But Negan thinks that I'm in a high position of power, so I have no choice but to lead."

"You did it to protect a friend?" Ezekiel inquires, settling back in his throne. "You would rather sacrifice yourself than a friend. You're a very brave young lady." Ezekiel looks around us. "Ah! Benjamin! Come meet our new friends!"

Benjamin nods once to me as he passes, then does a double take on Clary. "You're her," he breathes. "You're Clary Dixon. I was expecting you to be taller."

"I still pack a punch, Bitchamin."

He laughs at the nickname. "I don't doubt that. I've heard about you."

"I guess I've got a reputation, then," Clary says, laughing nervously. She looks back up at Ezekiel. "Anyways, my lord… wait, do I call you 'my lord?' My king? Your majesty? Your highness? No, I'm not going to call you 'your highness.' Okay, um, anyways, Zeke, I think our communities might be in a position to help each other, if you'll hear Rick and I out."

"I look forward to it, Cheyenne," Ezekiel says, dismissing us all with a wave of his hand. He chuckles to himself as we walk away, shaking his head. "'Zeke.'"

* * *

 **~Rick~**

Two members of the Kingdom, Richard and Alvaro, lead us through it on the way to meet with their leader. They make us wait next to the garden while they take their horses to the stables. While they're gone, the Dixons arrive, Clary turning to Jesus. "I believe there's a certain something you forgot to mention about Ezekiel," she demands.

"Oh, shit," Jesus says with a chuckle. "I'm sorry. Should we tell the others?"

"No," Clary says, shaking her head. "We'll let them find out like we did." She glances over her shoulder, looking around at all of the Kingdom's members. "They have the numbers."

"But can they fight?" Rosita questions.

"Oh, they can fight," Jesus confirms.

As Richard returns, a familiar face is with him. Tara's the first to speak, questioning, "Morgan?"

"Hey," he says with a smile, hugging Tara and then Sasha.

"How do you know each other?" Richard questions.

"Morgan and I go back to the start," I answer. "He's part of our community."

"Well, the King is ready to see you."

The others follow Richard inside, while I hang back with Morgan and the Dixons. "Did you find Carol?" I question.

Morgan nods, and Daryl demands, "Where is she? Is she okay?"

"She was here and then she left," Morgan tells us. "You know, she wasn't too happy, me following her. She wanted to get away from us, from everyone. But when I found her, she was shot. It was just a graze. I got her back here. They got doctors. They're good."

"Was it them?"

Daryl doesn't have to say who for us to know.

"It was," Morgan confirms. "She had crossed with some of them, and one of them followed her, tried to kill her, but I stopped him." Finally, he looks away from Daryl to me. "I killed him. I had to. Carol was here. She got help. Now she's gone."

Clary takes Daryl's hand, and he follows alongside her as they lead me inside. Inside the auditorium, there's a man sitting in a throne on stage, accompanied by two men and…

"Is that a tiger?" I whisper to Clary.

"Her name's Shiva," she answers. "That's Ezekiel. He's a little… out there."

Ezekiel calls, "Jesus! It pleases me to see you, old friend!"

"It pleases him indeed!" one of the men echo.

"Jerry." Jerry still doesn't stop smiling. "Tell me, what news do you bring good King Ezekiel? Are these the new allies Lady Cheyenne told me that you would bring me?"

 _Lady Cheyenne?_

"Indeed, they are, your Majesty," Jesus says as Clary steps forward to join him. "This is…" Jesus turns back to us, trailing off when he sees our shock. "Oh, right, I forgot to mention that he has…"

"A tiger," I say, nodding. "Yeah."

"King Ezekiel," Clary calls, pulling me forward. "This is Rick Grimes, co-leader of Alexandria. These are our people."

"I welcome you all to the Kingdom, good travelers," Ezekiel says, the rest of my people following me and spreading out into the rows. Clary sticks with Jesus, the two and Daryl the only ones seemingly unphased by the tiger. "Now, what brings you to our fair land? Why do you seek an audience with the King?"

"Ezekiel," I start, then correct myself. "King Ezekiel. Alexandria, the Hilltop, and the Kingdom… all three of our communities have something in common. We all serve the Saviors. Alexandria already fought them once, and we won. We thought we took out the threat, but we didn't know then what we know now. We only beat one outpost. We've been told you have a deal with them, that you know them. Then you know that they rule through violence and fear."

Oh, Ezekiel doesn't look happy.

Jesus starts, "Your Majesty, I only told them—"

"Our deal with the Saviors is not known among my people," Ezekiel interrupts. "For good cause. We made you a party to that secret when you told us of the Hilltop's own travails, but we did not expect you to share—"

"We can help each other!" Jesus cries, interrupting Ezekiel as Clary snaps, "Don't talk to Paul that way! He told me of your deal for—"

"Don't," Jerry says, "interrupt the king."

"Don't interrupt _me_ , Hurley," Clary returns. She turns back to Ezekiel. "Look, Jesus told me about your deal with _only_ good intentions in mind. He just wants to help."

Ezekiel ignores her, still glaring at Jesus. "We brought you into our confidence. Why did you break it?"

"Because I want you to hear their plans," Jesus says. "Clary is one of the most brilliant people I've ever known. I know she's young, but she knows what she's doing. Clary was the one that planned and led a _successful_ attack against the Saviors. I've seen her do amazing things. Clary and Rick are a team, they lead together. They plan together."

Ezekiel glances from Clary to me. "And what plans have you? Rick Grimes and Cheyenne Dixon of Alexandria?"

I glance over at Clary in surprise because _no one_ calls her Cheyenne. She looks back at me over her shoulder, inquiring, "You want this one?"

"You brought up the Kingdom," I reply. "This was your idea."

"King Ezekiel," Clary says, turning to face the leader. "We came to ask the Kingdom, to ask you… Hold on." Clary steps away from Jesus, out into the aisle, and kneels before the king. "We've come to ask the Kingdom to join us in fighting the Saviors. Fighting for freedom, for all of us."

"Cheyenne, you do not need to kneel." Slowly, she rises. "What you are asking is very serious. Do you know the cost? Do you—"

"Thirty-seven," Clary interrupts. "How does that sound?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"In two years. You say I don't know the cost? I do, probably better than all of you. I _know_ the cost, Ezekiel. Thirty-seven lives I've ended for _my_ people. And I've watched even more die."

"Several of our people," Michonne says, stepping forward, "good people, were killed by the Saviors. Brutally."

"Who?" Morgan inquires.

"Abraham," Rosita answers. "Spencer."

"Olivia," I add. "Eugene was taken."

" _Glenn,"_ Clary says, a coldness in her eyes I haven't seen since I kicked her out of the prison. "They took Daryl. He escaped. Every second that he's out here, he's in danger. He's a _target_."

Clary shares a look with Rosita, who leans toward Morgan, inquiring, "You gonna say you were right?"

"No, I'm not," Morgan says slowly, shaking his head. "I'm just… I'm real sorry they're gone."

"No, you're not, you lying son of a bitch!" Clary snaps. "Negan murdered them. He _beat_ Glenn and Abraham to _death_ with a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire. He _gutted_ Spencer. At least Olivia went quick."

"He terrorized the Hilltop," Sasha adds. "Set loose walkers just to make a point."

"I used to think the deal was something we could live with," Jesus says. "A lot of us did. But that's changing. Clary is showing us a new way. So help her. Let's change the world, Your Majesty."

"I want to be honest about what we're asking," Clary says. "My people, we're strong, but simply put, there ain't enough. There are too many Saviors for just us. There ain't enough of my people, of Paul's people, or guns. Hell, weapons period."

"We have people," Richard says from where he stands next to Ezekiel and Shiva. "And weapons. If we strike first, together, we can beat them." He turns to Ezekiel. "Your Majesty, no more waiting for things to get worse, beyond what we can handle. We set things right. The time is now."

"The day is here," Clary adds. "But… Ben!" The blond boy standing on Ezekiel's other side turns to Clary at his name. "Ben, you'd be one of the people to fight, too. We need every person we can get. What do you think?"

Ben looks at Ezekiel before saying, "We _do_ have the numbers."

"Morgan," Ezekiel says, "what say you?"

"Me?" Morgan questions.

"Speak."

"People will die. A lot of people, and not just Saviors. If we can find another way, we have to. Maybe it's just about Negan, just capturing him, holding him. Maybe…"

"Morgan," Clary says. "They're _all_ Negan."

"The hour grows late," Ezekiel says, getting to his feet. "Rick Grimes and Cheyenne Dixon of Alexandria, you have given the King much to ponder."

I pause for a moment, remembering a story. I say, "Well, when I was a kid, my mother told me a story. There was a road to a kingdom, and there was a rock in the road. And people would just avoid it, but horses would break their legs on it and die, wagon wheels would come off. People would lose goods they'd be coming to sell. That's what happened to a girl. The cask of beer her family brewed fell right off. It broke. Dirt soaked it all up, and it was gone. That was her family's last chance. They were hungry. They didn't have any money. She just… sat there and cried, but… she wondered why it was still there… for it to hurt someone else. So she dug at that rock in the road with her hands till they bled, used everything she had to pull it out. It took hours. And then...when she was gonna fill it up, she saw something in it. It was a bag of gold."

"Alright," Jerry says, and Ben shoots him a look.

However, I'm not looking at Ben or Jerry or Ezekiel or Morgan. I'm looking at Clary because I'm slowly realizing that she's the girl digging up the rock in our road. The others, they're starting to realize it, too, because they all look at her.

"The king," I continue, "had put that rock in the road because he knew the person who dug it out, who did something, they deserved a reward. They deserved to have their life changed for the good, forever."

Clary looks up when she realizes that everyone's eyes are on yet again, realizing what the rest of us have realized. "Well, y'all know me," she says. "I'm always happy to bleed for Alexandria. For the Hilltop." She looks up at the people of the Kingdom on stage. "And now, the Kingdom as well."

* * *

 **~Benjamin~**

I can hear Ezekiel reciting Martin Luther King Jr's "I Have A Dream" speech to Henry as I make my way towards my little brother's room, leaning against the doorframe. Henry's already asleep, but Ezekiel finishes it anyway. He joins me at the door, smiling softly. "Thanks for stepping in on story duty," I say.

"I stopped in to say goodnight," Ezekiel tells me. "You missed supper. Where were you?"

"Went for a walk in the woods," I answer.

"You went out there?" I nod. "Unaccompanied?"

"Took out two dead ones on my way back," I tell him. "Getting pretty good with the stick. Wanted to practice with the gun. I, uh, I saw Carol out there."

"Oh," Ezekiel says. "Did she, uh, did she seem well? Did you talk to her?"

"Yeah," I answer. "She asked why I carry food and water in case I run into people."

"And you told her?"

"It's the same reason we should say yes to Rick and Clary."

"Elaborate."

"You saw their eyes. They're gonna risk everything, whether we help them or not. You heard what Clary said, Ezekiel. The rest of her people are like her. Morgan's told me about her, about what she's done. We need to agree to help them because we need Clary's help and she needs ours. And if we don't help them, if we turn away, then they can't win. And if they do, somehow, they will have saved us and we won't have done a thing." I sigh, glancing in at Henry before looking back to Ezekiel. "My dad always said that if you're asked to be the hero, be a hero. You wanted me to be ready for anything, and I am. We are."

Ezekiel pulls me into a hug, patting my back. He places a hand on my shoulder as he pulls back, nodding. "I thank you for your sage counsel. Your father would be very proud. The King is very proud."

"Thank you," I murmur.

"Goodnight, young Benjamin," Ezekiel says. I bid him goodnight as he walks away, blowing out the candles in Henry's room. From down the hall, I hear Ezekiel say, "Goodnight, Cheyenne."

"Goodnight, Ezekiel," Clary echoes, and I quickly exit Henry's room as I hear her voice. I see her casually leaning against the wall not too far away. I question, "How much of that did you hear?"

"Enough," she answers. "You meant it? What you said? About helping us?" I nod, and Clary gives me a small smile. "Thank you, Ben. I hope your words are enough to convince Ezekiel to side with us."

"Yeah, you and me both," I agree.

Clary pushes herself away from the wall, making her way towards me and taking my hand. "Where's your room, Ben? You want to talk in there?"

"Yeah, sure," I say, nodding. I lead Clary to my room, two doors down, and she closes the door behind us. "You wanted to talk?"

"Uh, not exactly," Clary says. She drops my hand as she slides off her jacket, stepping out of her boots. I take a step backwards as she takes a step forward, but stop when she grabs the front of my shirt in her hands. She pulls me down to her level, pressing her lips to mine. _Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. She's hotter than I thought._

I feel Clary smirk against my mouth as I rest my hands on her hips, then she laughs as I pick her up.

* * *

 **~Clary~**

I look down at Benjamin asleep beside me, sighing softly as I play with his hair. Part of me wonders if I've made a mistake, but I decide that I haven't when I take another glance at him. I knew that Ezekiel would do whatever Benjamin wanted because he treats him like his own son, and I wanted to make sure that Benjamin was with me, with Alexandria. That's why I followed him earlier, and after listening to his conversation with Ezekiel, I realize that Benjamin will be with us, no matter what. I originally planned to do this just because I wanted to secure our alliance, but I think that it's already secured. No matter what I would've done, Benjamin would be with us.

At least I got a good night out of it.

I slowly slip out of bed, trying not to wake Benjamin. It takes me a few minutes to find all of my clothes, but I still can't find my shirt. So I settle for the next best thing and take Benjamin's. I pick up my boots, carrying my jacket on my arm as I slowly open the door. I take one more look back at Benjamin before slipping out, quietly closing the door behind me. I freeze when I hear a familiar voice say, "Doing the walk of shame? Aren't you supposed to wait until the morning to do that?"

I look up at Carl, who stands with his arms crossed in the middle of the hall. I know I can't deny that I slept with Benjamin. How the hell could I even begin that lie when I just left Benjamin's room in the middle of the night, wearing his shirt with my hair even messier than when I had sex with Carl? I try to smooth my hair down, not even looking at Carl as I pass.

I ignore him as if he's not even there, walking down the hall. I pause at the end, looking over my shoulder at him as he walks in the opposite direction. I know it hurt him, and it hurts me to do it to him. But I'm willing to do whatever I have to, to use whatever or whoever I have to, to get allies in this war. To get all the king's men, I'm willing to sleep with one just to have the players I need on the board to defeat Negan so his shadow stops looming over me and everyone I love.


	10. 9: Happy to Bleed

**Chapter 9: Happy to Bleed**

 **~Clary~**

I'm up before the others, unable to fall back asleep, so I take a walk around the Kingdom, eventually running into Ezekiel. I stop next to him as he watches his people train, greeting, "Good morning, Your Majesty."

Ezekiel jumps, breathless as he says, "Cheyenne, you gave me a fright."

"Alright, Zeke," I say. "It's too early for this Shakespeare shit. Do you always talk like that?"

"You can't bullshit a bullshitter, can you?" Ezekiel questions as I climb up on a fence, sitting on it and facing him. "Cheyenne, is that…"

"I'm sorry, is it what?" I question, knowing that he's talking about my shirt. He shakes his head, not questioning it any longer. "Alright, Pi, I gotta ask, what's the story with the tiger?"

"I was a zookeeper," he says.

"Let me guess. You were her favorite handler, right? Then when the shit hit, she stuck by you?"

"A dude with a tiger is made out to be pretty powerful. Stories started, people looked to me, so I acted the part."

"And they looked at you like a king," I say. "Yeah, I was expectin' somethin' like that. I saw through your facade right away, you know. You're a bullshitter, and I'm nothing but a liar that teaches. That's how it is, ain't it? Liars, frauds, and cowards. Alexandria, the Kingdom, and the Hilltop." I catch sight of my people in the distance, being led by Richard. "So, Your Majesty, ready to 'deliver your decree'?"

Ezekiel turns, seeing my people. I follow him to meet them, taking my place at the front and facing Ezekiel. "This is life here," Ezekiel says, gesturing around to his people. "Every day. But it came at a cost. And I wanted more of this. I wanted to expand. To create more places like this. Men and women lost their limbs. Children lost their parents because I sent them into battle against the wasted when I did not need to."

"This is different," Rick argues.

"It isn't."

"It is. The dead don't rule us. The world doesn't look like this outside your walls. People don't have it as good. Some people don't have it good at all."

"I have to worry about my people," Ezekiel simply says.

"You call yourself a damn king?" Daryl questions as Rick turns away, shaking his head at me. "You sure as hell don't act like one."

Ezekiel turns to Daryl, making his way over to him. "All of this came at a cost. It was lives." He gestures to his people, ones missing limbs. "Arms, legs."

"We know all about arms," I say, thinking of Tyreese. "About legs." Hershel. "Hell, even hands." Merle. "We know about lives. But, thing is, if you help us, you won't have to risk arms, legs, and lives out there no more. _No one_ will have to answer to _them_. And yeah, there might still be some walkers, but we can do it. If we work together, we can kill 'em all. We can _clear_ the _world._ We can make the new world." I turn to Jesus, looking at him in a way I never thought I would: with hope in my eyes. "The _next world_. We'll make the next world a better one _ourselves_. To hell with the law of averages." I turn back to the king. "But we can't do it without you, Ezekiel."

"The peace we have with the Saviors is uneasy," Ezekiel tells us, "but it is peace. I have to hold on to it. I have to try. Although the Kingdom cannot grant you the aid you desire, the King is sympathetic to your plight. I offer our friend Daryl asylum for as long as he requires it. He will be safe here. The Saviors do not set foot inside our walls."

"How long do you think that's gonna last?" Daryl questions. "I don't go nowhere without my sister."

Daryl shakes his head and walks off, the others following. Benjamin follows with Richard as we make our way to the gate, and I look over at him as I dig the keys to my motorcycle out of my pocket. "Clary, I'm so sorry," Benjamin rushes, catching up to me. "I thought he was with you. I could've sworn he was. But know that I _am_. One hundred percent."

"I know," I say softly. "Just… do something for me?"

"Yeah, sure," he says, nodding.

"Try to convince him again. Stay here, make him see that just keeping Daryl safe ain't good enough. It means the world to me, it really does, but it ain't enough. I need the moon, too. I need your people."

"How many people do we have?" Richard inquires, looking over his shoulder at me. "To fight? I'll go with you."

"We don't even have enough to take on one outpost, face-to-face, yet," Rick answers.

I add, "We can't keep doin' this guerilla shit, sneaking' in in the middle of the night. Sooner or later, we're gonna come face-to-face, and we need all the people we can get."

"So the Kingdom _has_ to get involved," Richard says, "or the Saviors will always be in charge. It isn't about soldiers. We're making them stronger. The more food we give them, the more arms, the more everything, every day any of us gives them something, they become harder and harder to beat."

"But we need to get together before that day comes. All of us, all of these communities." I rest my hand on Rick's arm, whispering to him, "Talk to Daryl. He might listen to you."

"And not you?" Rick questions.

"Just try. Get me if you can't. I gotta talk to Ben."

I take Benjamin's arm, pulling him aside as Rick tries to convince Daryl to stay. "Holy shit," Benjamin breathes. "You scared me."

"Look, I know you want to fight, even if Ezekiel doesn't," I say, getting straight to the point. I press a folded paper into his hands. "These are directions to Alexandria. If you're serious about joining the fight, come find me. There's a place for you in our ranks."

"Thank you, Clary."

"No problem, Bitchamin."

"You know my name's Benjamin, right? I mean, I hope you do, after last night..."

"Yeah, you got it, Benedict." Benjamin shakes his head, and I give him a smile. "I know your name, _Benjamin_ , but I like picking on you."

"Will you come back? Even though Ezekiel said no?"

"My brother's here, of course," I say.

"Not what I meant," Benjamin says, giving me a grin. He leans down, resting his fingers under my chin and tilting my head up. But we're interrupted with a shout.

"Clary!" Rick shouts.

Benjamin drops his hand as I turn, looking at Rick over my shoulder. Is this guy for real? I know he cockblocked Daryl and Carol before, and now me and Benjamin? Shit, no wonder Abraham gave him the nickname "Constable Cockblock."

"Clary, will you come knock some sense into your brother?" Rick asks, motioning me over to the two. I sigh softly, walking over to join them. "You're staying, Daryl."

"That's an order, big brother," I add.

"I'm not staying," Daryl argues. "Clary, come on!"

"It's the smartest play," Rick says, and I nod in agreement. "Try to talk to Ezekiel. Or stare him into submission, whatever it takes."

"Use that Dixon charm, kemosabe," I tell him. I pull him forward, kissing his cheek. "We'll be back soon, big brother."

I try not to look back as Rick and I walk out of the Kingdom, but after I'm out of the gate, I have to. As the Kingdom's gate closes, Daryl stands there, watching us. I raise my hand, smiling softly as I flip him off. Daryl breaks into a grin and goes to return the gesture, but the gate closes before he can.

* * *

We take a different route on the way back to the Hilltop, as we're not far from Negan's place, according to Carl and Jesus. Rick leads the way in the SUV, and I follow on my motorcycle. Normally, I'd lead, but I have no idea about the route we're taking, so I follow. I pull up beside the SUV as it slows to a stop, shutting off the engine as Jesus rolls down his window. "Someone's trying to block the way," he says. "Gotta be the Saviors."

"Look," Carl says, and I look around the car to see a large factory in the distance. "I think that's their base over there."

"Yeah, that's it," Jesus confirms.

"So they're trying to block off all routes to their base," I say. "They don't want people getting close. They're trying to make it hard for people to get to them."

"We gotta keep going," Rick says. "We'll move 'em, and then we'll move 'em back. They don't need to know we were here."

So we make path large enough for the SUV to get through, Michonne standing watch with a pair of binoculars. "Rick," she calls. "Come take a look at this."

We follow Michonne to what she sees, finding a metal cable hanging between two cars. Attached to the cable are a series of explosives, expanding across the entire highway so any walker walking by would get caught. "What is this?" Michonne inquires.

"When we were hanging in the back of the truck, we heard a couple of them talking about this," Carl says, gesturing to Jesus. "This is for a herd."

"That's why it's a steel cable," Rosita says. "It's not just for one walker. It's for a lot."

"We need these explosives," Sasha says.

"But we have to figure out how to disarm it first," Rick says.

"Rosita," I say. "You pick anything up from Abe?"

"From Abraham, no," Rosita says, kneeling by a vent that's covering a hole in the ground. She carefully pulls it off, revealing the detonator below. "But I can."

"Uh, okay," Tara says, taking a few steps backwards.

"Backing up is not gonna make a difference if this thing blows," Rosita tells her.

We all freeze when we hear Negan's voice coming from the long range walkie Jesus stole.

"We got ourselves a red situation," Negan says. "I need a search party. See if Daryl ran home like the dumb animal he is."

"Dumb animal, my ass," I mutter, reaching for the walkie. Jesus lifts the walkie above my head, out of my reach.

"We gotta go," Michonne says. "We need to get there before them. But we need these. We need to clear a path anyway."

"Rosita?" Rick questions, as she hasn't stopped working.

She pulls out a black explosive, saying, "First part's done. Now, we gotta unwrap the secondary explosives. The dynamite, the RPGs. Make sure these casings are not messed up, and do not mess them up, either. This thing could still blow." So we get to work, Rostia taking charge. "You can load the explosives into the trunk as long as they're in good shape. No dents, no tears. They are not live. They still need to be triggered to be set off." She takes one from Tara. "Not that one. I don't like the way it looks."

Rosita takes it, putting it down in a ditch. We start loading the explosives, pausing when Carl calls, "Dad! Look."

About half a mile down the highway, the first walkers in the herd are arriving. "Alright, there they are," Rick says. "But they're far. We still have time."

"You sure?" Sasha questions.

"We need these. And we need to get the cars back in front of the on ramp."

"They'll know we took their explosives, so does it matter?" Jesus inquires.

"We want that herd to stay on the highway," I answer. "We may need it."

"Okay, Tara, Carl, come on!" Rosita says, and the three pile in the SUV. They take care of the cars at the on ramp while the rest of us finish up with the dynamite. We work as quickly as we can, but more and more walkers are coming.

"Uh, Rick?" Sasha questions, pointing to the herd.

"Sasha, Jesus, can you get back to the Hilltop on foot?" Rick questions, and the two nod. "Tell Maggie we're not giving up."

I don't like it, though. People tire, walkers don't. They might not be fast enough on foot.

"Jesus!" I say, holding out a hand to stop him as he runs by me. He skids to a halt, Sasha right beside him. I dig in my pocket, finding the keys to my motorcycle. "Take it, okay? I'll ride with the others."

"You sure?" Jesus asks.

"Yeah," I tell him, squeezing his hand as I give him my keys. "Get your asses back to Hilltop." Jesus kisses my cheek, promising he'll take good care of my bike before running after Sasha. They climb on my bike, taking off for the Hilltop. "We need every stick, every RPG."

"Guys," Michonne says, pointing to where Tara, Carl, and Rosita are. "They're gonna cut them off. Can't we just split up?"

"No," Rick says. "Clary, take the dynamite, get it to them. Michonne and I'll see you there."

I nod, taking the explosives from Rick and running to the others. I hand them off to Tara, but I can't leave Rick and Michonne in good conscience. I take off for them, stopping at Rick and his car. "What the hell are you doing?" he demands.

"Came to help!" I reply. "Looks like you're good." When I notice Michonne having trouble getting her car to start, I take off to help her. "'chonne!" I bark as I reach her, coming to a halt at the door. "I got it! Cover me!"

We switch, Michonne watching for walkers as I hotwire the car. "Got it!" I shout as the engine roars to life, Rick's doing the same. "So, what's the plan?"

"Lay on the horn! We go on Rick's count!" Michonne tells me, climbing in the passenger seat while I take the driver's. She rolls down the window, watching for the signal. As soon as Rick brings his hand down, we take off, blowing the horn to get the walkers' attention. The steel cable cuts them in half, taking out every walker in our way. We stop once we're past the car with the others in, we come to a halt, climbing out. I climb over the car, following Michonne as we make a break for it.

Michonne makes it to the car first, and I go back when I notice Rick in a bit of trouble. I kill a walker before it can grab him, pushing him ahead of me towards the car. We barely make it in, and as I start to close the door behind me, I feel a walker grab me. I let out a cry as it pulls me back, Rick coming to my rescue. But I think he's too late.

Just as he stabs it, the walker's clamping down on my shoulder.

"No!" Carl cries. Rick shoves the walker back into the herd, closing the door. Everyone falls into an eery silence, the calm before the storm. Rick's visibly trembling, shaking his head as if that would help if he was too late. I look around at my family, my eyes landing on Rick. I pant, "Always happy to bleed, right?"

Carl pushes his way across Rick and Michonne, sitting between his father and I as he begs, "Please, goddammit, don't be bit."

I'm almost too scared to look, but I force myself to as Carl pulls aside my shirt and jacket. Everyone breathes a sigh of relief when they see no bite, myself included. "The leather was too thick," I say. "They couldn't get through it."

"There's no bite," Carl murmurs. I break down crying then, relieved because I wasn't ready to die yet, not with Negan still out there. Michonne and Rick climb into the back row, leaving Carl and I in the middle. He holds me so tightly I think he might break something. I know I shouldn't latch onto him, I know it'll only make it harder. But I wrap my arms around him anyway, crying into his shoulder. "I got you," he whispers. "I'm here. We're alive, you're alive."

 _One step forward, two steps back,_ I think to myself. I try to distance myself from Carl, yet here I am. Carl is still my friend, I remind myself, and he's still my family, and he's _there._ I say nothing, and I worm my way closer to Carl as there's an explosion from the way we came. I lift my head from his shoulder, and we look out the back window at the cloud of smoke. I turn back to the front, where Rosita sits in the passenger seat while Tara drives. I start, "Rosita…"

"Yeah, I didn't like the look of that shit _at all_ ," Rosita says without looking back.

* * *

We hide the car, not wanting anyone to know about the explosives in it. Tobin open the gate for us at Alexandria, question, "Lose the car?"

"It's somewhere safe," Rick answers. "Listen, we need to get everybody ready."

I run to meet Aaron and Eric as I see them, pushing around Rick. I hug Eric first, then Aaron. "Everything okay?" Eric questions.

"My heart's still beating," I answer, looking at Aaron.

"What happened?" Aaron questions.

"Ran into some trouble with some walkers. The Sav—"

I'm cut off by the Saviors' trucks rolling in, and I step forward, in front of Rick as Negan's second in command, Simon, approaches. "Rick! Clary!" he calls. "Hello." He gestures to everyone else. "And… hello again."

"We thought it'd be longer," I say, playing dumb and pretending I don't know why they're really here. "You were just here yesterday."

"Do you think we're here for a tribute?" Simon questions.

"Well, I'm assuming it isn't a social call. So why are you here, Simon?"

"We're here for Daryl."

"What?" I breathe, reaching back to Rick. "You-you-you mean he's not with you? Where is he?"

"Negan took Daryl," Rick adds, putting a hand on my arm.

"Oh, but then your son showed up and Daryl went missing," Simon tells us. "Might those two be connected?"

"They're not," Rick says. "I mean, you can probably tell by Clary's reaction, but we didn't know he was gone until right now."

"Then, this should be easy," Simon says with a grin. "Now, everyone find a buddy. Gonna have to follow us around. If he's here, we really need you all to see him die." Simon puts a hand on my chin, tilting my head up. "Got that, sweetheart?"

So they search every house, every room, and every closet. Simon forces Rick and I to follow him, and Aaron and Eric don't leave my side. Simon enters the pantry, and I freeze at the bare room. "Wow," Simon says. "These are some bare shelving units. You guys have a barbeque or something and not invite us? Seriously, this is sad! Hope you're not trying to hide stuff from us, 'cause that generally doesn't go over too well."

"We have a lot of people," Aaron tells him. "It's getting harder to find stuff. Our focus lately has been on finding things that Negan might want. We're still adjusting to the new system."

"We were gonna scavenge more today," Rick says. "If you wait, we'll bring you something back. We'll find more."

"Aww," Simon laughs. "Relax! I'm not here for a pick up. Good thing. But that day is coming, so you best do whatever you need to. Dig deep. Go the extra mile. Take some risks!"

"We will," Michonne assures him.

"Well, we will appreciate that."

And just like that, Simon and his men leave the pantry. They get in their trucks and begin to roll out, one of them stopping at the gate for Simon to get in. "Oh!" he cries, as if just remembering something. "If Daryl does turn up here, two days from now, two months from now… hell, two years from now, just know that there's no statute of limitations on this. Keep that hatchet handy, Rick. You're gonna need it if he turns up with you people. And it won't turn out the way it did for your boy."

He hits the side of the truck, and they roll out without any more words or threats. I decide, "That motherfucker's number three."

"What?" Rick questions, looking back at me.

"He's the third one I'm gonna kill. Right after Negan. That bastard's _mine._ He's number two." I turn, fixing everyone that remained in Alexandria, aside from Aaron and Eric, with a cold glare. "Number one is whoever the fuck raided our pantry. So what the hell happened?"

"We don't know," Aaron says. "And we need to talk about Gabriel."

"Where is he?" Rick inquires.

"He was on watch the night you all went to scavenge," Tobin tells us, walking over after closing the gate. "I was supposed to take over for him this morning. He wasn't at his post."

"Pantry was cleared and a car was gone," Aaron adds.

"No one's seen him since," Eric finishes.

Rosita scoffs, shaking her head. "That _hijo de puta._ He stole our shit and ran."

"That's what it looks like," Tobin agrees.

"Well, I don't want to believe it," Michonne starts.

"I don't believe it," Rick counters. "That's not Gabriel. He wouldn't do that to us."

"I don't know, Rick," I say. "I mean, 'you'll burn for this' was just the tip of the iceberg. He lied to Deanna about us. I _never_ trusted him."

"I thought he changed," Rosita adds, "but it can't be anything else."

"Yes, it can," Rick argues. "Clary, take a group and search the woods. Look for a trail, anything."

I don't like it, but I do it. I lead Aaron and Eric through the woods, eyes on the ground with them watching my back. I kneel beside a fresh print, glancing back at Aaron and Eric. Eric asks, "You find something?"

I put a finger to my lips, hushing them. I whisper, "Fresh tracks. One set. He's not far."

I lead the way, passing my crossbow to Aaron. "You sure?" he questions.

I flip open my switchblade with a nod. "Blades don't need reloading." Aaron and Eric share a look. "In case I miss."

"You never miss," Eric points out.

"Not on purpose," I reply. We continue on, slowing to a stop when we see a man kneeling in the woods, trying to start a fire. I slowly creep forward, approaching the man that's definitely not Father Gabriel. I keep my eyes on him as I step towards him, freezing when I accidentally step on a branch. _Rookie mistake, you idiot._ The man turns, reaching for his gun. I follow his hand, eyes widening as I see what's carved into the wooden grip. I bark, "He's a Savior!"

He must be one of Simon's men, sent out here to make sure Daryl doesn't try to sneak into Alexandria. I lunge for the gun with Lucille carved into it, struggling for control of it. I manage to get it, but the Savior knocks it out of my hand. He pulls me back, crossing my arms over my chest and holding me hostage. I struggle against him, but I'm stuck. "No, no!" I cry. "Dad!"

I freeze as I realize what I just said. I called Aaron "Dad," and I'm pretty sure it's not the first time. I think I said it the other day when I was half asleep, but I don't remember it. I didn't mean to say it yet, but I said it and there's no going back.

The Savior's grip only tightens as Aaron aims my crossbow at him. "Ah, ah, easy, big boy. Try to shoot me, you might kill her," the Savior says. I unwrap one finger from around his hand, making sure that Aaron sees it. He gives a slight nod, and I know he understands. I unwrap a second, counting to two. To me, the Savior inquires, "What're you gonna do now, sugar?"

"What am I gonna do?" I repeat. I unwrap my third finger, then turn my palms down. "Hands like Houdini, bitch."

All at once, I throw my hands down and my hips back. I hit the ground, rolling back towards Aaron. I come up on one knee as Aaron fires my crossbow. The bolt impales itself in the Savior's shoulder, and he clasps his hand to his shoulder. He stumbles backwards, right into the open arms of an approaching walker. I take my bow back from Aaron, quickly reloading it. I fire, killing the walker. It drops to the ground, taking the dead Savior with it. Eric repeats, "'Hands like Houdini, bitch'?"

"Thank you, Tom Cruise," I breathe. I take the hand Eric offers, and he pulls me to my feet. "Aaron." He looks over at me. "You good?" Aaron nods. "Eric? You good?" Eric nods. "I'm good, thanks for asking."

Eric chuckles at my sarcasm, and Aaron leans over, ruffling my hair. "Aaron, I swear to God, if you touch my hair one more time…"

I trail off when I see his grin, and I suddenly remember how he knew that ruffling my hair would get me riled up. He watched Daryl do it, one of our first nights in Alexandria. I lean down, picking up my switchblade and stepping towards the Savior's body. I put my switch through his head, then grab my two bolts and the Savior's gun before rejoining Aaron and Eric. As I reload my crossbow, Eric inquires, "Keep going?"

"No," I answer. "There's nothing out here. The trail, it was this asshole's."

"Would Daryl have been able to pick something up?" Aaron inquires as I get to my feet. "A trail, anything?"

"What do we look like, bloodhounds?" I question.

Aaron smirks. "There's nothing?"

"There ain't jack of shit out here. C'mon. Maybe the others got a lead."

"Well, lead the way, Daniel Boone," Eric says, gesturing back the way we came. I shake my head as I pass him, leading them back to Alexandria. As we near the gates, Eric says, "Clary? Clary, stop."

I pause, turning back to look at him and Aaron. "Eric?" I question. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

Aaron and Eric share a look, and I suddenly find myself fearing that I'm about to lose my home, even though I know they wouldn't do that to me. Aaron and Eric wouldn't kick me out, knowing that I have nowhere else to go.

"Please, no," I whisper. "Please, don't kick me out. I don't want to go. You're all I have left."

"Oh, Jesus, Clary, what the hell?" Aaron rushes. "Oh my god, no! We'd never do that!" I close my eyes, trying to calm down so my heart stops beating so fast. "Clary, why would you think something like that?"

"I don't know," I whisper. "I don't know. I don't want you to leave me, too."

"We're not going anywhere, Clary," Eric assures me.

"Then why do you have that look on your face?"

"Because of what you said earlier, when that Savior had you. Clary, you really consider us your parents?"

I don't hesitate to answer. "Of course."

Eric suddenly wraps me in a hug, kissing the top of my head. I close my eyes, not bothering to open them when I feel a second set of arms around me, knowing they belong to Aaron. "I was starting to think you only said it because you were asleep," Aaron murmurs, and I know he's talking about the trailer. "But you weren't this time."

As I wipe my eyes, I realize that this is quickly becoming the place where I feel the safest: right between Aaron and Eric. Eric pulls away first, and as much as I don't want to let go of Aaron, I do. I lead the way into Alexandria, hoping that whatever happens with Gabriel, I'll make it home to my family. As we start down one of the streets, Eric blurts, "Oh, my god, I've got it. _Danielle_ Boone."

I stop, looking over my shoulder at him. I jokingly say, "I hate you."

Eric turns to Aaron. "That's a normal teenager thing, right? Is this her rebellious phase?"

"It's not a phase, Mom, it's who I am."

Aaron looks at Eric. "Yeah, it's a phase."

Without another word, I flip them off. They stand back, asking each other if they saw a bird while I take off. I take a shortcut, getting to the empty armory before Aaron and Eric. As I walk in, I can hear Michonne say, "Well, he saw Olivia and Spencer die right in front of him."

"Just 'cause we saw people die, we're just supposed to cut and run?" I retort, stopping in the open doorway and not feeling one ounce of pity for Gabriel. "How many people have we seen die? How many have we killed _ourselves_?" I shake my head. "Look, seein' people gutted is fuckin' scary, but that was _nothin'_ compared to _that_ night. _I_ was _covered_ in Glenn's blood. _I_ took a bullet for Aaron and Eric. _I_ put down Spencer. _I_ risked myself, and most importantly, _Daryl_ , to make sure the Kingdom was safe. All that, and _I_ still ain't runnin'. None of y'all are runnin'. He wants to run out there and get himself killed, that's fine with me. I'll let him. But that son of a bitch ain't draggin' us down with him. So I'm gonna go out, get our shit, and let him out there to die. Just like he did to his flock."

"He was scared then," Tara says. "He found his courage. I want to believe he held on to it."

"Well, he didn't," I say, "or else he'd be here."

"Clary," Rick says, turning to me. "Did you find anything while you were out there?"

"No," I say, shaking my head as Eric, Aaron, and Rosita arrive behind me. "There was nothing out there."

"I wondered if Daryl could've picked something up," Aaron admits, "before I realized that we still have a Dixon that can track. But even Clary couldn't find anything."

"He left," Rosita says. "He didn't leave a note. He doesn't want to be found."

"He ran, Rick," I add. "It's time to accept it. He turned on us, just like I knew he always would."

"No," Rick says slowly, looking at a page in the notebook Olivia used to keep track of everything. He holds it up for us to see, a single word scrawled on the page.

"'Boat,'" I read. I look up at Aaron, squeezing his hand as I remember it. "There's only one boat."

We're all silent for a moment, until Aaron asks, "How could he have known we were there?"

* * *

I finish pulling the shirt I stole from Benjamin off as there's a knock on my door, and I hear Eric's voice a moment later. "I don't think you should go," he says.

"I have to go out there," I say, searching for another shirt. "Aaron's gonna be out there. I have to watch his back." I grab one, unfolding it as I head for the door. "Would you rather have me or Rick there for him?"

"I'd rather have both of you home! Where you're safe!" Eric cries. I open the door to look at him, and he blurts, "Oh my god, your shoulder!" I glance to my left to see a large bruise starting to form from my encounter with that walker. "What the hell happened? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," I tell him.

"What happened?"

"Well, I said I ran into trouble with some walkers," I say softly, crossing an arm over my chest and resting my hand on my bruised shoulder. I glance at my jacket that hangs on the back of the desk chair. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't for that jacket." I pull my shirt on, then pull my jacket on after. "Walker couldn't get through the leather."

"You sure you're okay?"

"I'm gonna be completely honest, Eric," I say. "I thought I was dead."

"But you're here," Eric replies, taking my hand. "You're still alive."

"I'm still alive."

I grab my crossbow and bag, putting my bow on my shoulder as I walk downstairs with Eric. "So, that's it," Eric says, announcing our presence as Aaron packs a bag. "You're finally leaving me."

"You caught me," Aaron replies. "I'm just tired of being so damn happy at home. Didn't know how to tell you."

"Babe," Eric starts.

"They need me. Us. Gabriel needs us."

"If I ask you something," Eric says, and I follow him as he walks around the couch to face Aaron, "will you tell me the truth?"

"Of course," Aaron answers.

"And Clary? Will you?"

I pause. "Yes."

"You and the others, you didn't go out there scavenging, did you?" I look away from him, unable to meet his eyes. "You're going after them again and you're not telling us. And now they're dragging our family into this."

"Rick already dragged us in," I murmur.

Aaron adds, "Rick has his reasons."

"Rick didn't get the shit beaten out of him," Eric returns. "Rick wasn't shot. You think this is about Gabriel, but it's gonna be more. It's _always_ more. So, please, please don't go. Both of you."

"Rick needs me, so I need to be there," I say, glancing up at Eric as I make my way over to Aaron. Out of the two of them, I know that Aaron's on my side. "I have to go."

"Gabriel's one of us," Aaron adds. "We have to."

Eric shakes his head, starting to walk away. I rush, "What's going on with the Saviors, that isn't this."

"Clary, if you and Rick are taking on the Saviors, that is _everything_ ," Eric says, turning back to us. "What if they find out while you're gone? What if they come back here?"

"Do you want to leave? Just turn our backs?" Aaron inquires, and I look down in shame. "Clary's already told me she wants to. We had this conversation when we were coming back from the Hilltop."

"What?" Eric asks, looking over at me. "You wanted to leave?!"

"I'm sorry," I whisper, sidestepping to hide myself behind Aaron's arm as my voice breaks. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Aaron tells me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "Don't be sorry. I know why you wanted to go. I get it. It's okay. Don't be sorry." He looks back at Eric, repeating, "Do you want to leave?"

"I want us alive," Eric says, stepping back towards Aaron and I. "All three of us."

"If we're leaving, we need to make a stop first," I say. "I ain't going nowhere without him." Aaron and Eric share a look, unsure of who I'm talking about. "I know where Daryl is. We get him, and we disappear. We don't look back."

"We get Daryl," Aaron agrees. "If we go."

"We aren't going?"

"It's all up to you, Clary. This is your life. Your vote counts."

For a single, selfish moment, I consider leaving. If we disappear, we don't ever have to worry about Negan again. It's then that I realize that Negan's the reason I can't go. I promised Glenn in his dying moments that I'd avenge him. I have to stay because I have to be the one to kill Negan.

I pick up my bag, throwing it on my shoulder before turning to walk out the doorway. I pause in the threshold with my hand on the doorknob, looking back at Aaron and Eric.

"Let's go find Gabriel."

As I walk away, I can hear Eric say, "She's got you wrapped around her finger, you know."

"I could say the same to you," Aaron retorts, but I can hear a smile in his voice. "You don't have any room to talk."

"Oh, just go after our daughter before she gets herself killed."

"Please do, Aaron!" I call. "Daryl's gone, so I can guarantee I'm gonna do something stupid."

Aaron steps out on the porch, teasing, "Why must you be like this?"

I shrug. "I have very poor impulse control, and Daryl's pretty much eighty-five percent of what little impulse control I have."

"I think it's actually closer to ninety-eight." Aaron gives me a grin when I glare at him, resting a hand on my shoulder. "C'mon, let's go find Gabriel."

* * *

I glance back towards Aaron as we near the lake, still feeling the terror that I felt when a walker pulled him under. Rick, however, seems obvlious to my nervousness. He looks around before saying, "You're up, Clary."

"Aaron," I hiss, reaching back towards him. Aaron squeezes my hand, following right behind me as I search for a trail. I give him a nod when I find one, and he whistles to get the others' attention. I lead the way through the woods until we exit it, a junkyard in the distance. Rick takes the lead then, Michonne directly behind him while the rest of us fan out, searching for any clues of Gabriel's whereabouts.

A thump causes us all to freeze, and I spin on my heel when I realize it came from behind me. Aaron takes a step closer to me as we spot a hooded figure with a gun. He grabs my arm, pulling me back with him as we all back into a circle, arms raised and guns at our sides. This new group completely surrounds us, and Aaron pushes me behind him. "Dad," I whisper.

"Stay back," Aaron hisses, turning his head slightly to look at me. I wrap my hand around his arm as a woman aims a gun directly at his forehead, pulling him back as I take his place, staring her down. Aaron reaches forward, trying to pull me behind him, but I don't move. I stay in front of him, looking around at the men and women surrounding us. They look tough. Good. I start chuckling, and everyone turns to look at me. "Hi," I say. "I'm Clary. That's Rick. This is Aaron. Where's your leader?"


	11. 10: Morituri te Salutamus

**Chapter 10:** _ **Morituri te Salutamus**_

 **~Daryl~**

I watch as Ezekiel climbs out of one of the trucks they took outside the gates, followed by Benjamin and Morgan. Ezekiel walks off after a conversation with Benjamin, beckoning Jerry after him. Jerry pats Benjamin's shoulder as he passes, complimenting, "You're sick with the stick, man."

"Jerry!" Ezekiel calls. Benjamin chuckles as Jerry follows after the King, his laughter fading as he asks Morgan something.

"Hey!" I call, and they turn at the sound of my voice. "Where'd you go in them trucks?"

"I need to speak to Daryl alone," Morgan tells Benjamin. "That okay?"

"Yeah," Benjamin says with a nod. "I'll get you something for that cut."

Benjamin walks off, while I meet Morgan at the bottom of the steps. "You went to see them, right?" I question, and Morgan nods. "Part of your deal?" He doesn't answer. "What the hell's wrong with you? You're bleeding."

Morgan touches his ear, looking down when his hand comes away bloody.

"They did that to you," I continue. "You know what they are."

"I do," Morgan says with a nod.

"You know, if Carol were here, she saw all that… if she knew about Abraham, Glenn… she'd be leading us right to 'em, ready to kill 'em all."

Morgan nods in agreement. "She would. And that's why she left, man."

I shake my head at him, realizing how little help he'll be when the battles start. I find Richard practicing his archery skills (he needs a lot of work), and I notice a crossbow sitting on the table. "I'm practicing," he says when he sees me watching him. "Gonna have to start using these more. The Saviors are smart enough to know I shouldn't have a gun around them." Richard turns away, putting his bow down. "Morgan said you're a bowman. Saw your sister's bow. Run in the family, huh?"

Richard picks up the crossbow on the table, offering it to me. I take it, questioning, "Why?"

"'Cause we want the same things," Richard says. "I need your help."

He goes back to practicing with a bow and arrow, while I aim my new crossbow down at the table to get a feel for it. I close my eyes when I feel the familiar pressure against my shoulder. It's not the same as my old one, the one that Dwight took. I like this new one, but I can't help but want my old one because it was a gift from Clary. But I have to smile because goddamn, I missed this. _Watch out Negan. The Archer's back._

* * *

"The Saviors, they ride this road," Richard tells me as we step off of it, walking around to the other side of a trailer. "If we see cars, it's them. They've been coming in packs of two or three lately. That's why I need you. I can't take them alone." We put our bags and guns down, Richard being careful with the Molotovs in his bag. "We're gonna hit 'em with the guns first, and then the Molotovs. Then back to the guns until they're dead."

"Why the fire?" I question.

"Needs to look bad. The Saviors who discover what's left... we want them to be angry."

"'Anger makes you stupid,'" I say, remembering Michonne's words to Tyreese. "'Stupid gets you killed.'"

"Exactly," Richard agrees. "I left a trail from here to the weapons cache I planted, to the cabin of someone that Ezekiel cares about."

"Who's that?" I question, not wanting any innocent people to die in this war. Maybe I can get them out, save them.

"It's just some loner he met. Sometimes he brings food."

It's starting to sound like Carol, and I'm starting to not like this plan. "Why don't they live in the Kingdom?"

"I don't know. She lives out there, she'll die out there."

"It's a woman?"

"What does that matter? She's got more balls than you _and_ me." Now it definitely sounds like Carol. "She's gonna die either way. When the Saviors come and find their buddies dead, if they know their elbow from their asshole and can follow an obvious spoor, they're gonna go to the weapons cache and then to the cabin, and they're gonna attack this woman."

I demand, "What's her name?"

"Maybe they kill her, maybe they don't, but it's gonna show Ezekiel what he needs to do."

"Her name," I repeat. "What is it?"

"She's tough," Richard continues, denying me the information I so desperately want to know. "Maybe she'll live."

"Say her damn name!" I bark.

Richard sighs. "Carol. I hoped you didn't know her, but I didn't think you'd care 'cause you know what needs to happen."

I shake my head, starting past him. "Fuck. No. Not her."

"Maybe she'll live," Richard repeats, trying to get me to continue on with him. But he blew that chance the moment he even _thought_ of threatening Carol. "Look, this is how this could happen. This is how we could get rid of the Saviors, how we all can have a future."

"Not without Carol. She's family."

"She's living out there on her own, just waiting to die!"

"Nah!" I bark, taking my bag and starting to walk away.

"If we don't do anything, a hell of a lot more people are gonna die, people who want to live!"

I turn back to him, getting in his face as I threaten, "You stay the fuck away from Carol, you hear me?"

I put my bag down as I hear cars in the distance, knowing that I'm gonna have to stop Richard so he can't go through with his plan to kill Carol. Richard leans out around the trailer, checking the road before turning back to me. "It's them," he says. "Look, we can wait for things to go bad, we can lose people."

"I ain't losin' her."

"I'd rather choose our fate for ourselves, even if it is the hard thing."

"No," I repeat.

"Sorry," Richard lies, turning with his gun ready. I drop my crossbow, grabbing him and throwing him to the ground. I'm on top of him before he can get a chance to reach for his gun, determined to hold him down until the Saviors are gone. I start throwing punches when he keeps struggling, and he manages to reach his gun. He hits me with it, knocking me off of him, but the dumbass pushed me right to my crossbow. _Sucks for him_.

I'm on my feet and aiming my crossbow at him as he gets his gun, turning to aim it at me. "There'll be more," Richard says. "Or those, they're gonna ride back this way later. We'll have another chance."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I growl.

"We're running out of time," he continues. "If you and your people want to move against the Saviors, you need to do it soon, and you need the Kingdom. What we have to do requires sacrifice one way or another. Guys like us, we've already lost so much."

"You don't know me," I say.

"I know that Carol, living on her own like that… she might as well be dead right now."

I lower my crossbow, wanting Richard to see my face as I threaten, "If she gets hurt, she dies, if she catches a fever, if she's taken out by a walker… hell, if she gets hit by lightning… anything… if _anything_ happens to her, I'll kill you."

Richard lowers his gun then, telling me, "I would die for the Kingdom."

I growl, "Then why don't you?"

* * *

 **~Clary~**

I stay glued to Aaron's side as the new group takes us into the junkyard through a series of winding paths and shipping containers. Even if they look strong, I don't trust them yet. And even if I tried to pull away, Aaron, with his almost painful grip on my hand, wouldn't let me get far.

They take us into a clearing amongst the junk, forcing us all together while they circle around us. I'm reminded of a documentary I once saw, where the fish would be forced into a ball while sharks and other predatory fish darted in and picked them off. I don't like how these people are forcing us into a bait ball. I try to put myself in front of Aaron, but he keeps me behind him. A voice from within in the crowd questions, "Are you a collective or does one lead?"

One of the women shove Rick forward, and Aaron reluctantly allows me to step forward. The crowd parts to allow a woman through, the tips of her hair bleaches from before the apocalypse and her bangs cut incredibly short. She eyes Rick and I, giving me a look of doubt. "Hi, I'm Rick," he says. I step up beside him, staring down Haircut. "This is Clary."

"Rick and I are partners," I tell her. "Co-leaders. We lead together."

"We own your lives," Haircut says. Yup, don't think I like her. "You want to buy them back? Have anything?"

"Well, you have one of my people," Rick says. "Gabriel. I want to see him first. Then we can talk."

Haircut gives a nod, and a man and woman leave. A moment later, they return, the woman escorting Gabriel. It's only when I see how scared he is do I believe that he didn't steal and abandon us. Haircut says, "The boat things you took got taken. Saw them, so we took the rest. And then we took him."

"Then you know we have nothin' to buy our lives back with," I say. "That's what you'll have soon. Nothin'. Because me and my people already belong to that group who took those supplies from the boat. They're called the Saviors. Right now, they own our lives."

"And if you kill us," Rick adds, "you'll be takin' something from them. And they will come lookin'. You only have two options when it comes to the Saviors: either they kill you, or they own you."

"But there is a way out. If you join us. We want to fight the Saviors, and we need people. You have lots of people. You look tough. You look like you could hold your own in a fight. We need people like you. And we _can_ win. I've led an attack against the Saviors, and I won. We can win, if you join us in fighting for freedom, for all of us."

Haircut pauses for a second, then says, "No."

She raises her hand, twirling her finger in the air in a circular motion. The two that brought Gabriel out takes him away, and Rick and I go back to back, eyes on these scavengers. One grabs Rosita by her shoulders, and she immediately headbutts him, knocking another girl to the ground. "Rosita, don't!" Aaron tries.

The woman standing in front of him hits him with her spear. I abandon my post at Rick's side, tackling the girl that hit my dad to the ground. I toss her spear away, punching her when she tries to push me off of her. I hit her again, breaking her nose. "Everybody, stop!" Rick barks. "Just wait!"

I pause, breathing heavily with my fist pulled back, knuckles dripping with blood. Gabriel makes his move then, taking a knife and putting it to the neck of the woman beside him. He orders, "Let us go, or I will kill her!"

Haircut simply raises an eyebrow, saying, "Away from Tamiel now."

"The Saviors, they have other places, other communities," Gabriel bargains. "They have things. Food, weapons, vehicles, fuel. Whatever you want, the Saviors have it."

Haircut raises her hand, and the Scavengers lower their weapons. Aaron puts a hand on my back, and I get off of the one under me. She scrambles to her feet, a hand over her nose as she disappears behind the wall of other Scavengers. "Away from Tamiel," Haircut repeats.

Gabriel looks between Rick and I. I order, "Put it down, Gabriel."

Gabriel removes the knife from Tamiel's neck, stepping away and putting it on the ground. Haircut says, "Your words now."

Gabriel says, "If you join us and we beat them together, you can have much of what's theirs. Fighting with us, you'll be rewarded, more than you can imagine."

"Want something now."

"Rick can do anything. I've seen Clary do the impossible. This group, they found me, here, so far from our home. What do you need? Just tell us, we'll get it for you. We'll show you what we can do. Now."

"Tamiel, Brion," Haircut orders. "Show Rick and Clary Up Up Up."

The two that brought Gabriel, Tamiel and Brion, start towards us. Aaron wraps his hand around my wrist, shaking his head. "It's okay," I whisper. "I'll be back. I can do this."

"Be careful," Aaron murmurs.

"Always am, never are," I reply. He drops his hand from my wrist, and Rick and I follow Tamiel, Brion, and Haircut up until we reach the top of a junk heap. Rick and I hesitantly step closer to the edge, and I can see our people, along with the Scavengers, in the clearing below. I can make out Rosita placing a hand on Aaron's shoulder, pushing him back down when he tries to get to his feet.

"All of us, here since the change," Haircut says. "We take. We don't bother. Things grow harder. We open cans, sometimes inside's rotten. Time's passed. Things are changing again. So maybe we change. Maybe." She turns to Rick and I. "Need to know you're real with this, that you're worth it."

She suddenly shoves Rick over the edge, and I don't waste any time trying to help him. I reach out to grab him, but I feel a hand on my back, and the next thing I know, I'm falling. "Clary!" Aaron shouts. "No!"

Rick lets out a groan as I land on top of him, and I roll off, muttering, "Shit, sorry."

"What did you do?!" Michonne cries.

I get to my feet, looking around. We're at the bottom of a pit, and I can see empty holes in the side of the heap. I walk over, resting my hand on one. They're large metal cylinders, providing a window to the other side. I look through one, and I can see Rosita trying to drag Aaron back from the heap, barking, "Aaron, no! No!"

"Clary!" Aaron shouts. "Clary, goddammit, answer me!"

"Dad!" I shout, and Rosita releases him as they all rush to the heap, looking at Rick and I through the cylinders. "I'm okay! We both are!"

I step back as Rick steps forward to look at Michonne. I press my back against his, not knowing what's down here with us. I scan the walls of trash for a way out, sighing when I find none. "Well, _morituri te salutamus._ "

"What?" Rick asks.

"'Those who are about to die salute you,'" I translate. I freeze when I see that walker covered in spikes stepping towards us. "Oh, _shit._ "

Rebar protrudes from its body, a metal helmet covered in knives or rebar covers all of its head except for its mouth. I already know that this son of a bitch is going to be tough to kill, since they took our weapons when they first surrounded us. Plus, it's going to be nearly impossible to get close to the walker without hurting ourselves.

I look down as my foot hits something, finding a human skull below me. I back into Rick as he backs up, and he turns trying to scramble up the walls while I back the other way. Rick grabs a keyboard, hitting the walker over the head with it. The keyboard breaks apart, and the walker's still coming. Rick puts an arm in front of me, trying to push me backwards, but there's nowhere for us to go. He tries to shove the walker away, putting his hand on the walkers head. I wince as I see that one of the pieces of rebar has gone through Rick's hand. But he manages to push the walker away, and I try to pull him back. He pushes me back again, kicking the walker away. He cries out, falling back, and I see a cut in his leg.

"Rick, climb!" I order. "Get out of here!"

Rick doesn't argue, trying to climb out of the pit as I step forward to face the walker. I place my hands where there isn't rebar, trying to hold it off until Rick is far enough up that I can follow. I can feel a piece pressing into my stomach, crying out when I feel it cut me. I shove the walker away, the shrapnel slicing my stomach. I drop to my knees, a hand on my stomach, but I scramble to my feet when I see it coming back for round two. Rick can't get out, falling to the ground behind me.

We get up, backing up again. "The walls!" Michonne shouts. "Use them!"

Rick and I look at each other, and I pull an old computer out of the wall. It sends an avalanche of bags and cushions down, landing on the walker and forcing Rick and I back. Rick pulls another bag, and more trash comes down, burying the walker. Rick wraps a piece of shrapnel in a cloth, using it to cut the walker's head off. The walker still snarls, but it's beheaded. I pull a piece of rebar out of the walkers body, driving it up through the walker's head from the spot where Rick cut it off. It stops snarling, dead for good.

"Are you not entertained?" I shout, holding up my walker head on a stick. "You know what, lady? _FUCK YOU!"_

With that, I drive the rebar into the ground, impaling it in the ground like the Lord of the Flies. Rick demands, "You believe us now?! Just tell us what you want and we'll get it!"

Our response is a rope being thrown down, our exit out of the pit. "Go," I tell Rick. "You hurt your leg _and_ your hand. I'll be right behind you. I'll catch you if you fall."

Rick climbs up first, and I follow behind him. I find myself reminded of the ravine at Hershel's farm, and it seems so long ago. I follow Rick, ready to catch him, just like Daryl was ready to catch me. As I near the top, I pause, one hand wrapped around the rope, I look back down at the pit. I smirk, looking down in pride at Rick and I's work. I climb onto the top of the pile behind Rick, glaring at Haircut.

"Guns," Haircut says. "A lot. And then we fight your fight." Rick and I look at each other, sharing a smile because we've secured another alliance. We follow the Scavengers down, pausing at the bottom of the heap. "You know we will win?"

"Oh, I know it," Rick says.

"After, we get half of what's won," Haircut tries.

"A third," I argue. "And we're takin' back what you stole from us."

"Half."

"A third."

"Half."

"A third."

"A third, and we keep what we stole." I shake my head. "Half of the jars, the ones we took. One time, this time. Yes? Say yes."

Rick and I share a look before saying in unison, "Yes."

"And the guns."

Rick sighs, saying, "And the guns."

Haircut shakes my hand, then goes to shake Rick's before pausing when she realizes that it's bloodied. She shakes his other hand, telling us, "Waited by the boat a long time. Want something for it. So it's this. Jars and guns, guns and jars."

"You waited for someone to get the supplies off the boat for you?" Rick questions.

"Long time," Haircut confirms. "We take. We don't bother."

"You had that thing down there for someone to prove themselves?" I question. "I saw a skull down there."

"No," she says. "His name was Winslow."

"What were you gonna do with Gabriel?"

"Go. Deal expires. Soon."

She turns to walk away, and Rick calls, "What's your name?"

Haircut pauses, turning to look back at us. "Jadis."

She turns and walks away, followed by her people. Rick and I are left by ourselves, Rick nearly falling when he tries to take a step. I catch him, wrapping my arm around his waist. "I got you," I tell him. "I got you."

Rick nods, wrapping his arm around my shoulder as I press my other hand to my stomach. Together, we limp back to the ground, both my blood and Rick's smearing onto my shirt. "I'm sorry," Rick apologizes, seeing the blood on my shirt. "I'm bleeding on you."

I reply, "As long as you ain't dead, I don't care. Don't die on me, Rick. We got a war to lead together."

* * *

 **~Aaron~**

"Well, I made another deal," Clary calls, and we all turn at the sound of her voice. She and Rick limp towards us, Rick's bloody arm wrapped around her shoulders as he leans against her for support. She keeps one arm around his waist, her other hand on her stomach. "Let's hope this one works out."

I take off, pushing around Michonne as she starts over to meet Rick. I pull Clary away from him, wrapping my arms around her. I send a glare Rick's way, but it goes unseen. Clary's unwavering loyalty to him pisses me off, even though I know there's nothing that can be done about it. But it's because of that loyalty that Clary was nearly killed today, and she was nearly killed a multitude of other times. As I hug her, I turn my back to the others, as if I can shield her from everyone. I lean back just enough to look her over, checking for bites. "Hey," Clary whispers, and I pause, looking down at her. "I did it."

"Are you okay? You bit?" I question, and she shakes her head. "Don't you _ever_ , and I mean _ever_ , do _anything_ like that again! Do you understand me, Cheyenne?!"

Clary looks up at me with a tired smile. "I never knew you cared this much."

It's the same thing I said on the boat. I hold Clary against my chest, my arms wrapped tightly around her. "Ow, Aaron, ow," Clary hisses. "Dad, I can't breathe."

"Sorry," I say, loosening my hold on her. I still an arm around her shoulders, holding her close. Tara gives us a small smile, resting her hand on Clary's arm before she faces us and Rosita.

"We shouldn't be going back to Alexandria," Rosita says. "We need to stay out and look for the guns for the deal."

Tara argues, "Rick is hurt, Clary is hurt. Aaron is hurt."

"It's a _scratch_ , Tara," Clary says. "I'm fine."

"I'm more worried about what Eric will say when he sees us," I add.

Clary chuckles, knowing it's true. "Yeah, he got worried when he saw my shoulder earlier."

"Your shoulder?" I repeat, looking down at her. "Did something happen?"

"Oh, you weren't supposed to know about that," Clary mutters, glancing away.

"Cheyenne Clarissa Dixon."

Clary reaches up, pulling aside her jacket and shirt collar to show a bruise on her left shoulder. "It was a walker," Clary tells me. "Tried to bite me. The leather stopped it from breaking the skin. I'd be dead if I wasn't wearing this jacket."

"You were nearly _bitten_ and you didn't tell me?" I scold.

"I didn't want you to worry."

"What else are you not telling me?"

Clary wraps her arms around me, standing on her tiptoes to whisper, "That I love you."

My heart melts, and I can't stay mad at her for not telling me. I wrap an arm around her, whispering, "I love you, too, Clary. But you gotta tell me when you nearly die."

Clary lets out a small laugh, nodding against my chest. She turns back to Rostia, telling her, "Tara's right, you know. People back home, they need this food."

"Rick wants to bring supplies back, and we regroup, so that's what we're doing," Tara adds.

Rosita shakes her head, looking at Clary with a look of betrayal. "Then I'll go on my own. Damn, Clary, I thought you were with me."

Clary freezes, something in Rosita's words reminding her of something. Tara says, "We _are_ together. We are sticking together, and that's it."

"What is your problem?"

"What is _your_ problem, Rose?" Clary questions. "Fuck, I thought Carl was the one with the moody bullshit! Look, we all lost someone we loved to the Saviors, alright? But that don't mean we have to pick a fight right now! Get your shit together, Rosita!"

"We're not fighting right now," Tara adds.

"It's always a fight, Tara," Rosita snaps. "I'm not letting anyone get in the way or slow us down. If we gotta stop people from taking from us or we gotta take from other people, I don't care. We win. Grow up."

With that, Rosita walks off, and Tara turns to Clary and I. "What the fuck was that?" Tara whispers.

"That was someone losing their shit. That was someone gettin' angry," Clary says. "That was anger making you stupid. And stupid gets you killed."

* * *

 **~Daryl~**

I don't know who's more shocked when Carol opens the door. She stops, her jaw dropping open. I could cry just seeing her again, seeing her alive. I shift on my feet, not sure how to start, and Carol sighs. She starts blinking back tears, then starts forward, wrapping me in a hug. I hold her, not wanting to let her go. But I do, pulling back so I can get a good look at her. I tell her, "Jesus took us to the Kingdom. Morgan said you just left. I was out here. I saw you. I had to see you." I can't keep my voice from breaking as I question, "Why'd you go?"

"I had to," Carol whispers. "I had to."

* * *

"Why'd you have to go?" I ask, watching Carol as she sits by the fireplace.

"I couldn't lose anyone," Carol answers, not looking back to me. "I couldn't lose any of them. I couldn't lose Clary. I couldn't lose you." She looks back at me, meeting my eyes. "I couldn't kill them." She sighs. "I could. I would. If they hurt any of our people… any more of them… and that's what I would do." She looks back at the fire. "And there wouldn't be anything left of me after that. The Saviors, did they come?"

"Yeah," I answer.

Carol turns away from the fire as I look down, unable to meet her eyes. "Did anyone get hurt? Is everybody okay?"

"Only Clary and I," I tell her. "Shot us. Same shoulder and everythin'. We're okay, though."

"You were shot?"

"It's me and Clary. We did stupid shit, got shot for it." I push the collar of my shirt aside so she can see the bandage on my shoulder. "We probably had it coming. We're okay."

"Did the Saviors…" Carol has to stop, choking back tears. "Is everybody back home okay? Daryl…"

I see it, then. I see why Carol had to leave. I understand why she couldn't take it anymore. She really can't kill anymore, or she won't be Carol anymore. That's when I realize that I have to lie to her.

I tell her, "They came. We got 'em all. Made a deal with the rest of 'em, like Ezekiel." Carol lets out a sigh of relief, tears still rolling down her cheeks. "Everyone's alright. Everyone's alright." I push myself out of my chair, kneeling beside Carol and hugging her again. "Everyone's alright. You didn't miss much."

"'Miss much'?" Carol questions. "What happened?"

"Uh, well, Clary and I live with Aaron and Eric now," I tell her, because I think that as soon as I can return to Alexandria, I'm moving in, too. "Mostly 'cause Clary broke up with Carl."

"What?" Carol asks, eyes wide.

"Yeah. They had this big fight about the Saviors the day you left. So she walked out."

"I can't believe it." Carol shakes her head. "I thought they'd always be together."

"We all did," I say, pulling away to look down at her. "So, uh, we gonna eat?" I grin at her, teasing, "Or do I gotta be a king or something to get food around here?"

Carol laughs, returning as she always does, "Shut up."

* * *

Shiva growls at me from the other side of her cage as I take a seat by the bars. She sniffs the air as she walks over, and she stops growling when she smells me. "You know, I wasn't expecting to see you down here," Morgan remarks, and I look up to find him standing by the door.

"I was down here the other night with Clary," I tell him. "I went looking for her. Kinda figured she'd be with the tiger."

Morgan chuckles. "You're good with her. Ezekiel will be impressed."

"Clary's good with her, too. She's better with animals than most people." Morgan chuckles, both of us knowing that it's true. "We both kinda figured a dude with a pet tiger can't be bad. She thought he'd say yes, he'd join us. Clary must be pissed."

"Or disappointed."

"That Benjamin kid, he wants to fight?" Morgan nods. "He cool?"

"He's with you. I don't like it, but he's ready to fight." Morgan shifts on his feet, adding, almost as an afterthought, "Though… I think you might want to watch him and Clary."

"What? Why?"

"That shirt she was wearing," Morgan says. "It's Benjamin's."

* * *

"Benjamin!" I shout, seeing him by the gate.

Benjamin pauses when he sees me walking over, greeting, "Um, Daryl, hi."

"We need to talk," I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

Benjamin closes his eyes, swallowing before looking at me. "So, uh, Clary told you?"

"Morgan," I say. "He knew that shirt she was wearing was yours."

"Daryl, I'm really sorry. It happened all of the sudden."

"You hurt my sister, I stomp your ass," I threaten, jabbing my finger in his chest.

Benjamin nods quickly, rushing, "I-I-I got it. But I wouldn't. I wouldn't do anything to hurt Clary. I really like her."

I pause at that, remembering how happy Clary seemed. She seemed to like Benjamin, and I know she definitely approves of him. And from the other conversations I've had with him, I like Benjamin, too. I say, "Benjamin."

"Um, yes?" he questions.

"I approve of you, kid," I tell him.

"Uh, thank you, Daryl," Benjamin says, grinning. He looks at the bag on my shoulder. "Where are you going?"

"The Hilltop," I answer. "I'm going to get ready. There's a war coming, and we need to be ready."


	12. 11: One Condition

**Chapter 11: One Condition**

 **~Clary~**

The dead of night silence would be reassuring if I wasn't hunting.

I know I worry Rick and Michonne by going out hunting by myself during the night, especially since it's just the three of us a long way from home. I have to hunt, though, because we've been out here two days and haven't found much of anything yet. One gun, barely any food. I don't find anything on my hunting trips. I turn back, hoping I gave Rick and Michonne enough alone time.

I don't miss Rick's disheveled hair or Michonne's rumpled shirts when I come back from my hunting trips. She blushes whenever I look from her to Rick, then wink at her. Rick, as usual, is obvious to it. There's no surprise there.

Rick is sitting outside the van on watch when I return, aiming his gun at me as I exit the woods. I raise my hands, saying, "I surrender, Officer Friendly."

"Clary," Rick says with a sigh, shaking his head. "You find anything?"

"Nothin'," I tell him, taking a seat next to the firing. "This is bullshit. I mean, how far out are we? And what do we have to show for it? _One_ gun. That ain't gonna be enough for Jadis."

"We push harder, we'll find it," Rick says. "There's a school just out of the woods. Michonne and I talked about hitting it tomorrow. Sound good?"

"Good a place as any."

"You tired?" I shake my head. "You should still try to get some sleep, though."

"You get some sleep," I tell him. "I'll take watch." He shakes his head. "Rick, I can't sleep. You go."

"Why?" Rick questions. "Why can't you sleep?"

Anyone that's gone through what we've gone through should know the answer to that, but yet Rick still asks. I answer, "It's the only way to keep the nightmares at bay."

* * *

We raided the school, finding a second gun and food. I take the lead as we trek through the forest, eyes scanning for any movement. "What is it?" Rick questions, looking over at Michonne. "What's that smile? Couple of days out, and all we got to show are two guns, dented cans of beans, and some football jerseys, pretty much."

"Pretty much," Michonne says. "We're fightin' the fight. It's better."

We all turn as we hear something in a clearing off the path, Rick drawing his gun as we start towards them. We kneel, watching them through the brush. They say something about a dude named Fat Joey, and I remember hearing the same name over the Saviors' radio. These men are Saviors. I take my crossbow off my back, lining up the closer of the two men in my sights before pausing to look at Rick. "Want me to take 'em out?" I ask.

"No," Rick answers in a whisper. "But what I _do_ want you to do is sneak up there and get their stuff. You see those two boxes?'

"Cover me," I hiss, putting my crossbow on my back. Rick and Michonne draw their guns as I sneak up to the tailgate. I silently move the lantern from the food box, and I carry the box back to Rick and Michonne. Rick takes it, and I go back for the box of batteries. As I grab the box, pulling it off the truck bed, I accidentally knock one of the chairs over in the bed. I say, "Oh, _fuck._ "

The two Saviors turn at the sound, one of them drawing a handgun. I freeze, just like I froze when I first met Noah. A gunshot rings out, and I instinctively duck my head. The bullet ricochets off the truck, and I take off, barking, "Run!"

Rick and Michonne take off, Rick carrying the box of food while I follow behind them with the batteries. We don't stop until we make it back to the van, quickly throwing the boxes in the back while Michonne climbs behind the wheel. She drives away, and I check the boxes for what I just risked my life for. Batteries and bags of chips and pretzels. I glance back at the woods as we exit them, and I remark, "I think we lost 'em."

* * *

"Clary. Clary, wake up." I wake with a start when I feel hands on my arms, trying to fight them off. "Easy, Clary! It's just me!"

"Huh?" I question, blinking as my eyes adjust to the light from the open van door. I see Michonne above me, and I stop fighting as I realize it's her hands on me. "'chonne? What's goin' on?"

"We found something," Michonne tells me. "C'mon."

I push myself up off the van floor, looking around. I don't remember falling asleep, but I must have since we're parked in the middle of the forest. I grab my bag, carrying my crossbow as I follow Rick and Michonne to whatever they found. A camp. They found a camp that fell to the dead. It looks like it hasn't been touched since the early days. Rick bangs on the fence with his hatchet, the sound drawing any nearby walkers. One approaches from within the fence, a rifle on its back.

"It's guns like that," Rick says. "That's why we're out here."

Michonne draws her katana, stabbing the walker through the fence. No other walkers come, so we climb over, still keeping an eye out. Michonne takes the rifle from the walker, searching its pockets for anything else, while Rick and I take a look around. I kneel by spent casings, but I take them nonetheless. We get Eugene back, we'll be able to make bullets with these.

"Something serious happened here," Michonne says. "A long time ago."

Rick nods his agreement, while I take another look at the casings. "Rick," I call, standing. "Look at these."

Rick steps over, looking at the casings in my hands before meeting my eyes. Michonne questions, "What is it?"

"These are serious rounds," I say, holding up one of the empty rounds. "Military, by the looks of 'em. There might be serious guns here, too."

Rick gestures to a bus at the end of the building, suggesting, "Let's get a better look."

I put my crossbow on my back, climbing up onto the hood of the bus. I climb onto the roof of it, then jumping across to the roof of the building. Rick and Michonne follow, Michonne giggling like a lovestruck teenager as Rick catches her when she jumps. I ignore them, instead checking out the roof. I don't like the looks of it. The roof could cave at any moment.

"'chonne," I say. "Remember the Big Spot?"

I glance over my shoulder at her, and she says, "Maybe we shouldn't be up here too long."

"Well, let's see what we're gonna see," Rick says. We cross the roof, looking out at dozens of walkers milling around a fairground. "Soldiers, civilians. All those rounds. There was a fight."

"Civilians?" I question. "Or dead pricks already?"

"Maybe it was other people," Michonne suggests.

"No," I say, shaking my head. "This place ain't been touched since the early days. The soldiers sent here got overrun. That's why they're still wearing their guns."

"I think this is it," Rick says.

"I think it is, too," Michonne says.

"I think it is, three," I mutter. "Thanks for askin' me."

Rick and Michonne chuckle, Rick asking, "You think we can?"

I give a nod, and Michonne takes the rifle off of her shoulder. Rick and I glance at each other as we try to figure out what Michonne's aiming at. Her first shot misses whatever her target is, the second one hitting a pyramid of bottles at a game booth. "That's one way to win the prize," I laugh.

Michonne looks to Rick, saying, "Yeah, we can."

We all look down as the roof starts cracking, and I look up as I say, "Oh, _fuck._ "

The roof gives, and we fall. I open my eyes a second later, realizing we landed on something that wasn't the hard floor. "You know what?" I question, staring up at the sky through the hole in the roof. "I'm just realizin' I fuckin' _hate_ drop towers."

Rick and Michonne start laughing at my statement, Michonne asking, "Everyone okay?"

"Yeah," Rick answers. "Are you two?"

I nod, Michonne still laughing as she says, "This is a sign, right? This is it. It has to be."

"Oh!" Rick cries as he sits up. "It is! Look!"

Michonne and I sit up, following his gaze. "Oh!" I laugh, seeing all the food. "Oh, where's Jesus and that truck?!"

"Well, the truck's at the bottom of a lake," Rick deadpans.

Michonne adds, "And we've had a _day_."

* * *

We dig into the first RTE box we can get to, lighting about a dozen or so candles to light the room. I pick up one of the RTEs, laughing as I read the contents. "Oh, I'm saving this for Carl," I declare. "I only need… fifty-five? Yeah, fifty-five more to get a hundred and twelve ounces of it."

I hold up the RTE, pointing to the chocolate pudding listed on it. Rick and Michonne start laughing, and Rick says, "We are _never_ letting him live that down."

"I had, like, three bites of it. He ate the _entire can._ " Rick and Michonne look at each other as we all make RTEs, and I rant, "All one hundred and twelve ounces! But I'm not angry. Or bitter. I'm not a person that holds grudges."

"My ass, you aren't," Michonne teases.

"I'm just gonna do what the wise ice princess Elsa once said and _let it go._ " I grab another case, chuckling at what I find in it. "Oh, fuck yeah."

I put down the case of beer in front of Rick and Michonne, cutting it open with my knife. I pull one out, looking down at it for a second. I take off the necklace with Sam's ring, slipping it on my finger and using it to open the beer. I open two more, handing them to Rick and Michonne as they dig in to their RTEs. I chug half of my beer, grimacing at the fact that it's warm but drinking it nonetheless. "How is it?" Michonne questions.

I make my response by taking another drink, while Rick, with a full mouth, says, "It's good."

"So tomorrow," Michonne starts as I take a bit out of my RTE, "we go out there, we get the weapons, right? We get Jadis and her people to fight with us. We kill Negan and anyone else we have to to win."

"Simon," I list. "Dwight, probably. Gary, David, and Laura. Those five are mine. Oh, and Arat. Make it six."

"And what happens after that?"

"After that, we keep going," Rick answers.

"Yeah, but Negan ordered the world his way. It's up to us to reorder it once he's gone, right?"

"All the different communities, they can figure it out together, how to keep going together."

"Yeah, but somebody's gonna have to make that happen. Or somebodies. Somebody will need to be in charge of that, right?" Rick nods. "It should be you. You and Clary."

"'chonne, I'm only leadin' for the war. I ain't a leader, I'm a soldier. Sometimes a soldier's gotta take command, but I ain't keepin' it. I don't plan to. Don't look to me to lead after this is over."

"Or me," Rick adds.

"What?" Michonne questions. "Why not? You could do it. You both could. You'd be good at it. I mean, if it's something that you wanted."

"Well, I don't think I do. Or I would."

"And I don't think I'd be right for the job," I add. "I don't want it."

"But the two of us, Michonne, you and me, reordering things together… I want that. If it's something you wanted."

Michonne nods, smiling. "Yeah."

Rick leans over, kissing her. "Oh, get a room!" I tease.

They both chuckle, Rick pulling away. Michonne declares, "I'm gonna eat five more of these dinners."

"You know," Rick starts. "We don't have to get it done tomorrow. We can take our time. If we go another day, another one after that, it's fine. I mean, the place is clear. It's locked up tight. We found the only way in, so…"

"We should get back."

"If we're gettin' the guns, it doesn't matter if it takes a little longer."

I look down at the spaghetti RTE. It's just not the same as the real thing, even if it is good. No, the real thing is the four of us sitting around the table, laughing as we dine and as I scold Daryl for his atrocious table manners. The RTE could never come close to the Raleigh tradition. It's empty without my dads and brother.

* * *

I take watch while Rick and Michonne sleep, though I highly doubt any walkers are going to get in here. The doors are barricaded pretty well, and the only other entrance we've seen so far was the roof where we came in. Michonne tried to talk me into sleeping, but it didn't work. I don't sleep much anymore, anyway.

I grab my bag, digging in it for the wallet with the Wings of Freedom. Glenn had originally gotten it for me as a joke, expecting me to throw it away. Now, I'm really glad that I kept it, now that he's gone. I remember when we first came to Alexandria, I found the first season of _Attack on Titan_ on DVD, and no one saw us, plus Tara, for an entire day as we binged the whole season. Tara's favorite character is Ymir, Glenn loved Armin, and I can never choose between Jean and Levi.

I guess it's kind of stupid, but the wallet is what I remember Glenn by. Since we came to Alexandria, I've added pictures in it. I don't look at the one that Aaron took of Carl and I before he lost his eye. Instead, I look down at the Polaroid of Aaron, Eric, and I that we took the night before I left with Rick and Michonne.

I close my eyes, hanging my head, as how much I miss them really hits. I don't understand how Aaron and Daryl did it, how they left those couple days while Eric and I were left back in Alexandria. It hurts too much, being gone for this long. I open my eyes, looking down at the picture and the smiling faces of my parents. I remind myself that we're going back tomorrow, that I'll see them again tomorrow, and I have to smile.

"That's cute," Michonne says, and my head snaps up. I find her sitting beside me, and I wonder how long she's been there. "Your picture. You've really become part of their family."

"I miss 'em," I tell her as I put my photo away. "Eric kept trying to convince me not to come. I mean, they both did, but Aaron understood why I had to go. And if we're bein' completely honest, I didn't want to leave 'em. It was really hard to leave Alexandria."

"I know," Michonne says, nodding. "I get it. Rick and I both do. It's hard to leave your family. I hate leaving Carl and Judith."

"'chonnie?" I question, using the nickname I only use when I'm really nervous. Michonne's immediately all ears, her hand resting on mine. "I want to ask you something, and I want you to be completely honest, no matter what the answer is."

"Of course," Michonne tells me. "What is it?"

"Are you… Are you and Rick mad at me? For ending it with Carl like that? Or ending it at all?"

Michonne rests her hand on my cheek, brushing my hair back. "Clary, honey, no! No, of course not! Where's all this coming from?"

"Well… Um, you haven't really looked at me since I walked out that night when the Saviors first came, for starters. It felt like you were ignoring me and I thought you were pissed. And then Rick… Rick hasn't treated me the same since. When we were out scavenging, at the boat, I told Dad that it was just Rick being Rick, but… it wasn't. That's not the Rick I know, or thought I knew. It just… it seems like he doesn't care. I-I-I-I don't know. I mean, maybe it was my confession, I don't know." My voice breaks as my heart starts beating faster. "I don't know what it is, 'chonne! But it feels like y'all are mad at me and it feels like I'm losin' you. I don't wanna lose you, not after I've so many people already."

"Clary, shh, please don't cry," Michonne says, her voice gentle and motherly. "Shh, Clary, honey, it's okay. We're not leaving you. Please don't cry." She pulls me into her arms, holding me against her chest as she rubs gentle circles on my back. "You're okay, honey, it's okay. I'm gonna have a talk with Rick when he wakes up."

"Thank you, 'chonne," I whisper, wrapping my arms around hers.

"It's why I'm here," she says.

I close my eyes, curling into her. "I miss my dads. A lot."

"We're going back tomorrow," Michonne assures me. "If you sleep, it'll go by a lot faster." As I start to drift off, I hear her murmur, "There you go. Just one more day, and then we'll be home."

* * *

 **~Michonne~**

"Rick Grimes," I say when I see he's awake. "We need to talk."

"Michonne?" he questions, rubbing his eyes as he crawls out from under a blanket. "Everything okay?" Rick looks at Clary, asleep in my arms. "She okay?"

"Started to have a panic attack, I think," I say. "I managed to calm her down enough to sleep."

"Why? I mean, what caused it?"

"Clary seems to think that we're pissed at her because she broke up with Carl."

"What?" Rick questions, sitting on the ground across from me.

"I know. But that's why we need to talk." Rick gestures for me to continue. "She said that you haven't been treating her the same. She said it seems like you don't care. Clary, she doesn't know if it's because of that or what she told you about Shane, but it's hurting her, Rick. And apparently, Aaron isn't very happy about it, either. He's not happy at _all_ about the way you've been treating his daughter."

"That's ridiculous!" Rick cries.

"Shh," I hiss. "You know how little Clary sleeps. She needs this rest."

"Sorry," Rick whispers. "But that _is_ ridiculous. I haven't treated her any differently—"

"Bullshit."

"Michonne—"

"You are," I whisper. "You really are. You can't see it? Look at us, right now. What do you see?"

"I see my family. I see Clary and Michonne. I see two strong—"

"Wrong. You see me holding a scared kid that's been forced into a leadership position because she couldn't stand the thought of losing anyone else. You really don't see Clary as a kid?"

"She's sixteen," Rick says. "Never once have I seen her actually act like a kid. Never. I mean, she was fourteen when this started, but she's mature beyond her years. Clary's always been able to take care of herself, so no, I tend not to see her as a kid."

"Everything that's going on, it's killing her. She's losing it, Rick. She's broken, in a way that I don't think even Daryl can repair her."

"I know," he murmurs. "But we have to try. We have to win this, and fast, or else we won't be able to bring Clary back. We won't _have_ a Clary to bring back."

* * *

 **~Clary~**

Rick, Michonne, and I hide behind a dumpster, studying the terrain before us. "Look," Michonne whispers. "The walkers in the field, they're not closed in."

"Yeah," Rick murmurs. "We gotta take care of the ones out here."

"Block that gap, too," I add. "Take the rest slow. I count nine."

"That car," Rick says, glancing around the other side of the dumpster. "I can block it up. I can take out that one on the way. You two draw the rest."

"You're leaving us eight," Michonne says.

"We could shoot them, but that would draw the rest from the field. This is about doin' it quiet, with the sword." We shrug off our bags. "You two can handle eight."

I hit the dumpster, drawing the walkers while Rick makes a run for the car. Michonne takes care of the walkers before I can get a chance to kill them, and I raise my eyebrows at Rick when I see him pull a walker's shoe off, the foot inside. "It's like a reverse Cinderella," I mutter.

Michonne chuckles, shish-ka-bobbing two walkers and killing them. I notice another one approaching, but it doesn't look like too much of a problem. It's still a ways away, and we have time to help Rick push the car into the gap before it arrives. Rick says, "Did you even save Clary any walkers?"

"No," Michonne answers.

"I feel offended," I add, joining Michonne at the back of the car.

"I can push," Rick tries.

"So can we. You worry about steering us into the gap."

Rick climbs in the car, and a moment later, I hear him say, "Shit. The brakes don't work."

Michonne and I duck as there's gunfire, and I glance over to see that the walker that I didn't think would be a problem is actually a huge problem. The walker is stuck on some rebar in the back of a truck, hitting the trigger on gun and causing it to fire. I push Michonne to the side and reach for my shield to defend myself, only to remember that Negan took it. "Oh, _fuck._ " I take off after Michonne, crying, "'chonne, run!"

Michonne and I hop in the trunk, closing it after I'm in, as the car keeps on rolling. I feel it stop a few seconds later, able to hear walkers as they crowd around us. Rick's voice comes through the seats, asking, "Michonne, Clary, you good?"

"Yeah," Michonne answers. "We're good. You?"

"Yeah. I think we overshot it."

"You think or you know?"

"I, uh, I know. It was a good plan, though."

"It was a great plan."

"Oh, _fuck_ ," I sigh. "Alright, I think I got an idea." I push on the walls of the trunk, pushing through to the backseat of the car. "Howdy, Sheriff."

Rick looks back at me, asking, "What _are_ you doing?"

"Uh, getting us out?" I try.

Michonne follows me through, both of us sitting in the backseat. "Alright," she says. "Now what?"

"The sunroof," I say, pointing up to it. "We get out through there. Climb off the hood, hop over the fence."

Rick pushes it out, climbing out first. Michonne and I follow, and I lead the way across the hood, jumping over the fence. The walkers follow after us, and Michonne questions, "Do it here?"

"Yeah," Rick says. We draw our weapons, killing a handful before we realize that the fence isn't strong enough to hold back that many walkers. It gives a moment later, and we turn to run. Walkers follow us through the fairground. We push over a Test Your Strength game, blocking them for a moment, but there's other ways around. I pull my jacket tighter around me, hoping that it'll be enough if one gets too close and grabs me again. I remark, "Here we go again."

The force of the walkers causes the end of the game to tip off the picnic table it was on, allowing them through. "There's too many," I say. "All of them like this, it's too many."

"We split them off into smaller groups," Michonne suggests. "The barrier's might hold then."

"You take the slide?" Rick suggests. "Clary and I take Ferris wheel? Or we can just go."

"You wanna go?"

"Nah, we can do this."

"Yeah, I know we can."

We split off, Michonne running for the slides while I follow Rick to the Ferris wheel. I stop for a second at the batting cages, grabbing an aluminum baseball bat before joining Rick at the Ferris wheel. I leap over the fence, joining Rick on the other side. "What a loser," I tease. "You used the gate."

"Whatever you say, Wanna-be Jesus. With your damn parkour and MMA."

"Dick Grimes."

"Kung-fuck you."

I flip him off with one hand, using the other to hit my bat off the fence, drawing the walkers closer. "You took a bat," Rick notes.

"This is practice, Ricky boy," I tell him.

"'Practice'?"

"For when I use Lucille to kill Negan."

"Guess we gotta get out of here first," Rick says. "Pick a walker and let's get to work." I step up to one on the other side of the fence. "Got one?"

"Yeah," I reply, looking at the undead carnival worker in front of me. "Fuck this clown."

With that, I swing, killing the walker with one blow. Rick and I get to work, silently challenging each other to a competition to see who can kill more walkers. Rick shouts to Michonne, "How you doin'?"

"Eight more!" she shouts. "You?"

Rick takes a quick count, subtracting one as I kill another. "Ten!"

"I hope you're hungry, Ricky boy, 'cause you're about to eat my bubbles!" I say, killing another walker. Rick laughs, then freezes as he looks at something. He hits my arm, and I turn, questioning, "What?" Rick points to something by a ride that had once stood tall, but was now wrecked and on the ground. "A deer."

"C'mon," Rick says. He climbs the Ferris wheel, drawing his gun.

"Rick!" I call, seeing more walkers arriving with their hands bound. "Don't bother! They'll get to the deer 'fore you!"

I turn back to the walkers at the barrier, pausing when I hear metal creaking. I turn back to find Rick falling, on the other side of the barrier. The original walkers are still on my side, but there are more coming. "Rick!" I shout.

I try not to flinch too much at each gunshot, trying not to count down from six. I take out the walkers still by the barrier, knowing they'll be after Rick soon enough. "Two," I mutter with each gunshot. "One." A sixth gunshot. "He's out."

I bash the head of the last walker, abandoning my baseball bat in favor of my knife as I jump over the barrier to help Rick. I scramble to get to the top of the wrecked ride, wanting to get a higher ground than the walkers. I get to the top of the ride, my heart skipping a beat as I turn. I can't see Rick, and the walkers are eating something.

 _Oh, please, no._

The walkers turn to Michonne as she arrives, dropping her katana as she fears the same thing I'm fearing. "Michonne!" I scream. "Run!"

She doesn't move, either frozen or ignoring me. _God, please be the deer. Don't be Rick._ I take off, jumping over the walkers. I roll as I hit the ground, picking up the katana. I can't lose Michonne, too, if I've already lost Rick today. _We're all supposed to make it home._ I come up on one knee, sticking the sword through the back of a walker's head, rescuing Michonne.

I kill the walkers around us, then see someone fighting from the other end. _Rick._ Michonne sees him and runs for him through the cleared section. I kill the remaining walkers as she jumps into his arms, crying. "I tried, but I still owe you one," Rick says.

I look around at my work, proud, as Michonne turns to look at me. I twirl her sword, grinning as I say, "Oh, I gotta get one of these."

* * *

I wake when I hear voices, not opening my eyes yet as Rick and Michonne speak. I do open them, however, when I realize the van has stopped. I push myself up, Rick and Michonne turning when they realize I'm awake. "Rick?" I question. "What's goin' on? Why'd we stop?"

"I need to talk to Michonne," he answers.

"You want me to wait outside?"

"No, it's okay. You can stay."

"Rick," Michonne says, and I'm surprised to see that she's close to tears. "I can't lose you."

Rick turns back to her, saying, "You asked me what kind of life we had just surrendering. It wasn't a life. What we did back there, what we're doing now, making a future for Judith and for Glenn and Maggie's baby, fighting the fight, that's living. You showed me that. You can lose me."

"No," Michonne says, shaking her head.

"Yes, you can. I can lose you. We can lose our friends, people we love. It's not about us anymore. It's about a future. And if it's me who doesn't make it, you're gonna have to lead the others forward. You're the one who can." Rick glances back at me. "You both can. Clary, please. I want you to lead if I die. You and Michonne."

I said before that I didn't want that kind of position, but I'm realizing that maybe I should have it.

"Okay," I say, nodding. "Okay, I'll take the lead. On one condition."

"What's that?" Rick inquires.

"You don't die."

* * *

"Operational? All?" Jadis inquires, looking down at the guns we brought her.

"To the best of my knowledge, yeah," Rick answers. "May need some cleaning. We found supplies."

"You expect us?"

"We cleaned some, oiled some. You can do the rest. We do this together."

"Yes, yes, but operational?"

"Well, you can fire a few, try 'em out if you like."

"How many?" Brion asks.

"Sixty-three," Michonne answers.

"We made an inventory," Tara offers.

"No," Jadis says.

"You mean… the inventory?"

"Not enough."

"What are you talking about?" Rosita questions.

"You asked for a lot of guns," Rick says. "That's what this is."

"Enough to fight your fight. Us? Nearly twice. Need nearly twice."

"We've wasted enough time," Rosita snaps, starting forward. "Let's go. Take our guns with us."

"No," Jadis argues as I hold out an arm to stop Rosita. "Our guns to take. Our deal still on."

Rick and I look at each other, and he bargains, "Not all of them. We're keeping ten for ourselves. To find more."

"Five."

"Ten."

"Six."

"Ten."

"Nine. And the cat back."

I take matters into my hands then, saying, "Twenty. He keeps the cat. We get you the guns. We fight together. This is the last offer. You refuse, all deals are off _and_ I will lead Negan here _myself._ So say yes, Jadis."

"Yes," Jadis replies. "More soon, we'll fight."

As Jadis walks off, Rick pulls me aside to allow her people to get our guns. He questions, "Do you think you went a little overboard?"

"Got the job done, didn't I?" I reply.

"You gave them no other choice."

" _We_ had no other choice. We were gonna lose 'em. I'm done sacrificing our shit." I lean closer to Rick, dropping my voice to a whisper. "Plus, I actually like that cat."

* * *

I close my eyes, breathing out a sigh as I lean against the closed door of my room. I told Aaron and Eric that I was going to bed early tonight, exhausted from being outside the walls. My exhaustion is about the only part that was true.

I grab a notebook and pen off the desk, sitting on the floor with my back against the wall instead of at the desk. I don't want to go, and I don't want to leave Aaron and Eric; but this is what I have to do. I have to make the sacrifice play so I don't lose them. I don't have any other choice, so I have to go after Negan. And I have to get Carol in this fight, one way or another.

I make a quick list of who I have to say goodbye to, a total of thirteen people. I write the less painful notes first, and I have to hold back tears as I write the other ones. I close my eyes as I lean my head against the wall, searching for the right words to end my final letter, the most painful one. I open my eyes as I find them, finishing it and tossing the pen up onto the desk. I look down at the letter, reading over it one last time.

 _Aaron and Eric,_

 _Thank you. You didn't have to do all this for me._

 _I'm leaving to find Carol. I'm going to try to get her to join the fight because we need her. I don't know if I can get her to join us, but I'll try. And whether or not she joins me, I'm going to go after Negan. And it'll probably be by myself. I probably won't come home, so this, unfortunately, is our goodbye. I'm sorry I couldn't say it to your face. You'd only try to stop me._

 _Look, I know this mission is a suicide mission. It's nothing new to me. I've gone on suicide missions before with no intention of coming back, but those missions were for me. This time, it's for you and the rest of our family._

 _I've written goodbye notes before. To Carol, when I decided to go back to the prison by myself. I've written two for Daryl. One, when Rick banished Carol and I. I don't talk about the other. This note, it isn't a suicide note. It's a goodbye. You know I'm not good at goodbyes. I needed something to tell you that I love you two._

 _To Aaron - I'm sorry for punching you. Just wanted to say that. I also wanted to say that I'm grateful you watched Daryl's back when you were out there together. I owe my life, my brother's life, and the lives of my people to you and Eric. I owe you everything for making the decision to bring us into your community. You saved my family._

 _To Eric - If I somehow make it back, you've gotta stop being so damn protective. I may be your daughter, but I'm not a little kid. I've seen shit, remember? I'm not saying that I hate it, but you've gotta let me grow up sometime._

 _It's always been just me and Daryl for all our lives. I grew up with my only family being my big brother. No mom, a shitty dad, and Merle didn't count as a brother. Brothers are people that look out for you, people that will always have your back. Parents are people that look out for you, care about you, protect you, and teach you right from wrong. Daryl might've raised me and protected me, but he's my brother above all. He wasn't a parent. I never had people to call parents, not before these past few days. Now, I do. I'm proud to call Aaron and Eric Raleigh my parents._

 _It's a shame I can't tell you in person._

 _Cheyenne Clarissa Dixon_

 _P.S. Underneath this letter is a stack of letters for the others. Will you make sure you get them to everyone? And give the letters addressed to King Ezekiel and Benjamin to Jesus. He knows who to give them to._

I get to my feet, putting my note on the desk where they can find it in the morning. I check to make sure the other letters are there. Daryl, Carl, Jesus, Rick, Michonne. Tara, Carol, Maggie, Ezekiel, Benjamin, and Judith's for when she's old enough to understand. They're all there, piled underneath the letter for my dads.

I grab my jacket, pulling it tight around me, and my bag and crossbow. I sneak out the window, silently closing it behind me, and climb off the roof. I put my crossbow on my back over top of my backpack, making a dash for the wall. I press myself against the side of a garage when I hear footsteps, waiting for them to pass. When they do, I continue on, scrambling up the wall. I drop down from the top, taking my crossbow off my back. I take off through the woods, using the moon to guide me as I make my way towards the Kingdom.

We asked Ezekiel before, but I have to ask again. We need him and the Kingdom, but above all, we need Carol.


	13. 12: Kindle the Flame

**Chapter 12: Kindle the Flame**

 **~Clary~**

I don't open my eyes right away when I wake, quickly realizing that the lips on my neck belong to the warm body beside me and not a dead one. A moment later, I'm realizing that there's a hand on my thigh, and my breath hitches as his hand trails up to my hip. He chuckles, and I shiver at his breath on my skin as he trails kisses along my neck and jaw, nipping at my earlobe before placing a kiss on the Metallica tattoo behind my ear. "Good morning," Benjamin purrs in my ear.

"This is one hell of a wake up," I say, opening my eyes as Benjamin pulls away from my neck. He looks down at me, smiling softly, and I can't help but return it. "I like it."

I lean up, sliding my hands into his hair as I kiss him. Benjamin, however, has other plans. He pushes me back down on his bed, saying, "Ah, Clary, I think it's my turn to be on top."

I raise my eyebrow at his sudden dominance. "I think I'm liking this more and more."

He smirks, leaning down and pressing a kiss to my navel. I try to push him lower, but Benjamin pins my wrists to the mattress as he works his way up. Just as he reaches the valley between my boobs, there's a knock on his door. We both freeze, Benjamin looking up at me. "Go answer it," I whisper. "They know you're here."

Benjamin shushes me as he climbs off of me, pulling on a pair of sweatpants. "Ben, put on a shirt," I hiss, catching sight of the marks on his back. "Trust me, a shirt."

"Clary, shh," Benjamin hisses, but he quickly pulls on a t-shirt. "Just be quiet."

"What're you gonna do, shove me in your closet?"

"That might be my brother!"

"Oh, shit," I whisper, pulling the blanket up to cover myself. Benjamin opens the door just a crack, blocking any view of the room with his body. I hear a kid say, "Morgan wanted me to train with him early today. I'm heading there now. Will you come by?"

"Yeah, yeah, Henry, I'll be there," Benjamin tells him. "I gotta get dressed first. I'll see you later, little man." Benjamin closes the door as Henry leaves, leaning back against it and sighing. " _That_ was close."

"I think that's a sign that we should be getting up," I say, climbing out of bed and searching for my clothes while Benjamin changes into his daily clothes. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Benjamin holding something behind his back, and I realize that I'm missing my shirt. "Benjamin."

"What?" he questions, a mischievous grin on his face. "I don't have anything."

"Fine, I'll just walk around the Kingdom in my bra. I'm sure Daryl would be _thrilled_ to see the hickeys you left."

"One, your brother left yesterday for the Hilltop," Benjamin says, giving in and handing over my shirt. "Two, you could've just taken mine. Again."

"Three, that would be a little _too_ obvious about us," I add, buttoning my shirt. "Where _is_ Morgan? I did come to the Kingdom for a reason, you know."

"What?" Benjamin inquires, feigning shock. "I thought you just wanted to see my handsome self again."

"That's a perk."

Benjamin grins, and he motions for me to come with him. I close the door to his room behind us, then follow Benjamin through the Kingdom. "You know, Henry, he scared the shit out of me when I was first here," I tell Benjamin. "He ran up to me while I was at dinner, and he goes, 'You're very pretty. I'm taking your picture.' And then he does. Pulls a camera out from nowhere."

Benjamin chuckles. "Yeah, that's his hobby, along with reading. He likes to take pictures of everything."

"Hm, he'd like Aaron and Eric," I say. "They have a whole collection of cameras."

"I like the Polaroids the most," Benjamin says. "Henry took this really cool one of me when I was training the other day."

"With the stick?" I question, gesturing to the bo staff he carries.

"Morgan's been training Henry and I. 'To injure an opponent is to injure yourself.'"

"Oh, Bilbo—"

"Oh my god."

"—don't tell me you're believin' that 'all life is precious' bullshit, too."

"No. I know we might have to kill. I was just quoting this book Morgan let me borrow." As we approach a gazebo, I can see Morgan training a boy about ten. Benjamin starts smiling as soon as he sees him. "As you can see, Morgan's teaching him, too." I can't help but give him a small smile as he glances over at me. "What?"

"That look," I tell him. "I know it. The pride in their accomplishments, the trust, the unconditional love. It's the same way Daryl looks at me." Benjamin smiles softly, and I turn to him, taking his hands. "Hey, um, are you doing anything today? I know Morgan might not tell me where Carol is. Will you come with me to go see her? Or take me to her, at least?"

Benjamin swallows, glancing down at our intertwined hands. "Um, I can skip out on the drop, yeah."

"Oh, no, Ben, don't," I say. "I don't want you to get in trouble for me. I mean, if you're gonna get yourself in trouble and skip for me, make it for something worthwhile."

"I-I-I can talk to Ezekiel," Benjamin stammers. "It won't be any trouble."

"I'll tell you what. If Morgan doesn't tell me, then I'll come find you. Alright?"

Benjamin quickly nods, and I turn, looking up at Morgan. He hasn't noticed us yet, so I call, "Another day, another boy training with a breadstick."

Morgan closes his eyes, sighing. "Good morning, Clary."

"Howdy, Morgan," I return. Henry and Morgan look down at Benjamin and I, and I don't miss the wink that Henry gives his older brother when he notices the two of us still holding hands. Morgan, however, frowns. "I broke up with Carl, Morgan, a while ago."

"And you're moving on already?" Morgan questions.

"We're, uh, we're not together," Benjamin rushes, dropping his hand from mine. To me, he murmurs, "Wait, are we?"

"Well, we did fuck a couple times," I whisper to him.

"Then I'll challenge you to a duel for her," Henry calls.

"Wow, you Kingdom boys really get into your LARPing, don't you?" I tease. "Well, Bitchamin, you gonna defend your right to my hand?"

"He said he wanted to be able to knock his brother on his butt when he first came to me," Morgan tells us. "Look out, Benjamin." Morgan chuckles, looking down at Henry. "You still want that?"

"Yeah," Henry says.

"No," Morgan immediately says. "You want to be like your brother. Yeah?"

"Yeah," Henry confirms, and Morgan smiles.

Benjamin nudges my arm, saying, "Hey, I've got gate duty soon. I'm gonna go."

"To answer your question," I say, taking his hand before he can leave, "we are." Benjamin grins, and I stand on my tiptoes to kiss him. "Alright, Sir Bitchamin, don't you have a dragon to slay?"

"You'll never be over the knight thing, will you?" he questions. "See you around, Princess."

"Ooh, nice one," I compliment. I wave goodbye to Benjamin as he walks off, climbing the stairs and joining Morgan and Henry. "Check your feet, kid," I say, glancing down as I pass. "If your feet ain't right—"

"Nothing's right," he finishes.

I chuckle, glancing over at Morgan. He gestures for me to go ahead, stepping back. "Take it away, Clary," Morgan tells me. "You're the real hand-to-hand expert."

"Henry, right? Ben's little brother? The photographer?" I ask. He nods, holding his bo staff on his shoulder as he shifts his weight to one leg. "Did I say you could relax?"

Henry glances at Morgan before taking a fighting stance, raising his staff. "Watch your stick height," I warn, pushing down the end of the staff. "Like that." I take a step back. "Alright. Hit me."

"What?" Henry questions. "You-you're not armed!"

I toss Morgan my crossbow. "The enemy ain't gonna have a stick."

Henry weakly mimics Morgan, very clearly trying not to hurt me. I push the stick away from my shoulder, telling him, "Give me more, Henry! Hit me!"

"I don't want to hurt you!"

"Oh, Jesus, okay." I pause for a second, trying to find a weakness to use against him. Then, I remember the way Benjamin was watching him. "Henry, I just hurt your brother! I tried to kill Benjamin! I _will_ kill him! The only way you can stop me is to _fuckin' hit me!"_

It does the trick. Henry doesn't hold back as he attacks this time, and I spin out of the way like Morgan taught me when he trained me, pushing the staff up. I glance at Henry's footing, and I find my window. I knock his feet out from under him, and he lands on his back with a cry. He gets back up, and I laugh, pleased with his determination. I take a step back, playing defense. I kick the bo staff out of his hand, pulling him back. I cross his arms over his chest, trapping him. I glance up to see Benjamin returning, still having some time to kill before he's on gate duty, but Henry doesn't see him. "Let me go!" Henry cries.

"You can get out anytime you want," I tell him. "I'll show you. 'Hands like Houdini.' Turn your palms down, and all at once, throw your hands to the ground and your hips back."

Henry does just as I say, freeing himself. "Way to go, little man!" Benjamin cheers.

"Yo, Bitchamin," I call. "I'll teach you that later, if you want." Benjamin gives me a thumbs up, shaking his head at the nickname. "And some other stuff."

Benjamin's cheeks go pink, and I have to keep the smirk off of my face. I won't deny that my original plan was to use Benjamin to ensure our alliance, and even though he's a pawn, I can't help but begin to regret my decision to march to my death because of him. The kid cares, and I know it'll hurt him when I break it off because I've got Ezekiel's men, but I know it'll hurt more when it's over because I'm dead.

"That was good," I tell Henry, offering him a hand. He takes it, and I pull him to his feet. "Work on your footing, Henry. I need to talk to Morgan."

Morgan turns to me as I pull him aside, and he asks, "What're you—"

"Carol," I interrupt. "Where is she?"

"I don't think she'd want me to tell you," Morgan replies. "She said she wanted to be left alone."

"And I think we both know that I don't give a shit. Now answer me, Morgan! 'Cause either way, I'm going. Whether you tell me or Benjamin takes me, I'm going."

Morgan breathes out a sigh. "Fine. You got a pen?"

"I don't need one," I tell him. "I can remember it."

* * *

 **~Carol~**

I knock on the door of Morgan's room, and he turns at the sound. I don't waste any time, getting right to what I want to know. "Why did Jesus bring Daryl and everyone else to the Kingdom?" I question.

He answers, "They, um, they wanted to see if we could all start working together on things."

"The Saviors are still here. They're not fighting with the Kingdom, but Daryl said they beat them back in Alexandria. Is that true? That they made a deal with them? Is everyone okay? Just tell me if it's true."

"You need to talk to Daryl about that. He wanted me to keep the whole story about you from everybody. Told me not to say where you were. I tried to do what you asked, but Clary was getting there one way or another."

"Clary?"

"She didn't seem to believe me when I told 'em you were dead. And Daryl didn't find you because of me. And what was said between you and him was said between you and him. I will go with you to Alexandria, if you want to make the trip, if you want to talk to him. You shouldn't go alone. I guess you won't be, though, if you get Clary to go back with you."

"She's here?"

"She was here earlier. She's on her way to your cottage right now. You found what you wanted, right? You got away from everyone. Is it what you wanted? Was it just too late to get away?" I think the tears in my eyes are the only answer Morgan needs. "Hey, we can leave for Alexandria right now. Right now if you wanna. We just gotta get Clary first."

I shake my head, turning and walking away.. I can't leave Clary out there alone.

* * *

"Is there anything I can help you with?" Benjamin inquires, following me to the gate.

"No," I answer.

"Well, uh, if you don't mind, could I walk back to the cottage with you?"

"No!"

"Please, Clary's there and I just wanna make sure she's okay."

"She's survived on her own before. She'll be fine."

"We have a drop today, but I can miss it." I stop at the gate, turning to look back at him. "I just… I'm trying to learn, and seeing what you did here, I… There were five of them. I would just really appreciate it if you would just… let me see how you do what you do."

"No," I say, shaking my head. "Go do your drop."

I turn to leave, making the walk back to my cottage in silence. I pause when I come to a walker I had knocked down earlier, still lying in the same spot. Normally, I'd continue walking, but this walker was alive when I came through and it's dead now. I look around, searching for whoever killed it, but I don't see anyone. _Clary, maybe?_ I decide that would make sense, and continue on my way.

I slow when I see Clary sitting on my porch step, looking tired but uninjured. She stares at her feet, elbows on her knees. Clary doesn't look up until I stop in front of her. She stands, and I notice that she's not carrying the shield she's so proud of. "Daryl said you were shot," I say, breaking the silence.

Clary gestures to her right shoulder. "Jesus said it was a through and through."

"Jesus? Daryl said you fought 'em in Alexandria."

Clary paused for a second before she says, "Yeah, we did. They cut and run, and Aaron and I went after 'em. Well, I went after 'em and Aaron kinda got dragged along. He got me to the Hilltop after I was shot. Don't trust their doctor, not like I trust Jesus."

"Wait, so you had Jesus take care of you and not an actual doctor?"

"To be fair, Carson's an obstetrician. Baby doctor, not a surgeon. I'm good. It's pretty much healed."

"Then why don't you have your shield?"

"Negan took it. All of our guns, too. We beat 'em first, but then they came back with more than ever. Too many to fight, so they took 'em. But Rick, 'chonne, and I, we found some more." Clary shifts on her feet, crossing her arms over her chest. "Look, I don't know what all Daryl told you, and I don't really care. What you two said is between you two. But we need your help."

"I said I was out."

"I need you back in!"

"We'll talk about this tomorrow, okay? Or later, at least."

"Carol, this needs to be sooner rather than later." I pause at that. It's the same thing I said to her when I had to convince her to kill Karen. "Yeah, you remember that, don't you? When it was you and me, doin' what needed to be done. There's another thing that needs to be done, and if you don't help, I'm by myself. Aaron and Eric are gonna come lookin' for me, and they're gonna try to stop me. I need an answer, Carol, 'cause I'm goin' after Negan tonight, with or without you."

"I'll think about it," I tell her. "But for right now, I have a garden to plant. Will you help?"

Clary looks down at her feet, then back up at me. I take a step back in surprise when I see tears in her eyes. Her voice shakes as she inquires, "You're never goin' home, are you?"

* * *

 **~Morgan~**

The Saviors are already there when we arrive, the long haired asshole, Jared, swinging my bo staff around. We quickly climb out of the truck, Gavin saying, "You're late."

Ezekiel starts, "If you could indulge us your pardon, our path—"

"I don't want to hear about it."

"Don't interrupt the King," Jerry says. Gavin nods to Jared, who hits Jerry in the head with the end of my bo staff. Jerry cries out, dropping to one knee, and Benjamin growls, "You rat-faced prick."

"Ezekiel," Gavin says as Jared glares at Benjamin. "There aren't any kings, presidents, or prime ministers. And all that is a fairy tale, too. Don't bring that 'Your Highness' shit our way. Now, I appreciate that you've been delivering, but… things have been unnecessarily tense, and that makes me unnecessarily tense. I didn't go this route for stress. No, just the opposite. So let's get to it. Do you have today's offering?" Ezekiel and Jerry step aside to allow Gavin to pass, looking in at the cantaloupes in the back of the truck. "I want your guns, too."

Instantly, we draw our guns, aiming them as the Saviors aim at us. Ezekiel doesn't take his eyes off the Saviors in front of us, not looking back at Gavin as he says, "We did not agree to that."

"Well, you got a choice. Same one that's been there since the beginning, I guess. You can give up your guns, or you can try to use them. What's it gonna be?"

No one moves. Richard tries, "We should give them over, Your Majesty."

Jared mocks, "Eh, we should give them over, Your Majesty." He looks at Richard, gesturing to my bo staff that he carries as he says, "Or maybe I'll just shove this down your throat."

"Give Morgan his stick back," Ezekiel commands. "Then you can have the guns. And all of us can go on with our day's journey."

"Ezekiel," Gavin says. "I need you to understand the gravity of what's happening here. I gave you a choice. What is it going to be? Come on. You know the answer."

"It's fine," I tell Ezekiel, nodding.

Ezekiel turns the gun in his hand, offering it grip first and ordering, "Give them your guns."

We hand them over as Gavin says, "We took your guns just now because things are about to get emotional. You guys have proven that you don't do so good with emotional. You're short. We said twelve. I count eleven."

"There are twelve there."

"There _aren't._ "

"Count again."

" _You_ count them!"

Ezekiel turns, joining Gavin at the back of the truck. "I counted them. I did. This is impossible."

"It's possible. It's real. It's happening now. And the problems have to end… now. You have to learn the stakes here, so we're gonna teach you."

"You don't have to do anything," Ezekiel says, raising his hands. "We'll get you twice the tribute in an hour."

"Right now is the only time that matters. And right now, you haven't held up your side of the bargain. After we have talked about things, over and over, again and again. So we're gonna deal with all of this right now."

"Right now as in right now?" Jared questions.

"Yeah. Right now."

Jared draws his gun, aiming it at Richard's forehead. The man doesn't even flinch, looking as though he's long since accepted this fate. He sighs softly, looking at Jared as he says, "Just do it."

Jared rolls his eyes. "Okay."

At the last second, his aim shifts to the person behind Richard.

"No!" Ezekiel shouts.

I'm beside Benjamin as soon as he hits the ground, hands hovering above the wound in his leg. He cries out as I shift him to be able to see it, and by all the blood already, I know this is bad. "Morgan," Benjamin whispers as I try to stop the bleeding in his leg. "In my room, there's a letter under Clary's shirt. Give it to her."

"You're gonna be okay," I assure him. "You'll make it."

"Get it to her if I don't."

Gavin calls, "Everybody, settle down!"

"We need to get Benjamin back to the Kingdom," Ezekiel says.

Gavin turns at that, realizing that it wasn't Richard that was shot. Gavin said before that Richard would be the first to go, but he wasn't the one that Jared shot. He turns to Jared, ordering, "Give the man his damn stick! Get in the truck! Don't say a goddamn word!"

I don't pay attention to the others, not even looking up as my bo staff clatters to the ground next to me. Benjamin writhes in pain on the ground below me, and I try to do everything I can to help him. I loop my belt around his leg, trying to cut off the blood flow, but it's still coming. "We need to go!" I bark. "He's bleeding out!"

Gavin barks, "One cantaloup! Not more, not less! Do you understand?!"

I have never heard Ezekiel sound so vicious as he growls, " _Yes, I understand."_

"Go patch him up."

As soon as Gavin moves, the rest of us do. We get Benjamin into the truck, him yelling in agony the entire time. I order, "Dianne, we need to drive to Carol's. We loaded her up with medical supplies. We need to stop the bleeding. He's not gonna make it to the Kingdom! Let's go!"

* * *

 **~Clary~**

Carol offers me a small smile as she puts tomato seeds into the hole I dug, but she doesn't speak. She knows I'm still waiting on an answer, waiting to know if she'll go after Negan with me. When she finally does speak, she asks, "Do you hear that?"

I nod, getting to my feet and scanning the road for the approaching vehicle. I recognize it as one of the Kingdom's as it approaches, taking off for the gate before it even stops. "Morgan! What happened?!" I demand as I approach, then stop when I see Benjamin. "Oh, god! Carol! Get all the meds you got! Richard, get in there and clear off a table! Everyone else, we're movin' Ben! Go, go, go!"

We get him out of the truck and haul ass into the cottage, putting him down on a table. Carol's waiting with gauze, pressing it to the bullet wound in his leg. He bleeds through it in seconds. I snap, "Goddammit, Carol, fuckin' save him!"

Ezekiel and I each take one of Benjamin's hands, and I gently brush his hair back, trying to keep him calm. It's the same thing I did the first time Carl was shot. "It's okay," Ezekiel assures him. "It's alright."

"You'll be okay," I say. "Stay with us."

Benjamin looks up at Morgan, saying, "T-to injure an opponent… is to injure yourself."

"C'mon, Benjamin, stay with us!" I cry. "Please, Benjamin! Stay with me!"

Benjamin's eyes drift to me, and he whispers, "Clary, I..."

He never finishes what he was going to say. His last breath is slow and quiet, a peaceful one. It's not ragged and rushed like his other breaths.

"No, no no no, please, no," I beg. "Benjamin, please! Say it! Please!" I drop his hand as I back up, the tears starting to flow as my back hits the wall. "No, no, this isn't happening. _No! No!"_

* * *

There's silence as we stand around Carol's home, everyone staring at the body of Benjamin on the table. I use one hand to wipe my knife off on the cloth that we covered him with, putting it back in its sheath. With the other, I gently stroke Benjamin's hair, my eyes brimming with tears. He died for no reason. I close my eyes, pressing my forehead against his. _Oh, Benjamin, you sweet boy. Why did it have to be you?_ Tears leak out of my eyes as I press my lips against his, wishing to feel him kiss me back just one more time. _You wonderful boy, you brave, brave man._

I only pull away when my fingers become slick with his blood from the wound I put in his head.

Ezekiel finally turns to Carol, saying, "I'm sorry for coming to you. We had no choice."

Before she can reply, Morgan takes off, opening and closing the door and ignoring the others as they try to stop him. "Let him go," I say.

"Cheyenne," Ezekiel says, turning to me. "You can't possibly mean that."

"I do," I say, gathering my stuff.

"Clary, what're you doing?" Carol demands. "Clary!"

"I'm goin' after 'em."

"After who? After Morgan?"

"No," I answer, putting my crossbow on my back. "The Saviors."

"I don't know where they go to after the drops," Ezekiel says.

"I'll find 'em," I swear. "I'll take 'em out myself. For him, for everyone that we've lost."

"You don't have any guns!"

"I don't fuckin' need a gun!"

"You'll die!" Carol cries.

Ezekiel adds, "There's at least ten of them on Gavin's crew, and they'll all be armed with guns. What do you plan to do?"

"I'm gonna punch the first sonuvabitch I see, take his gun, and use it to shoot the next sonuvabitch I see!"

Jerry says, "You're gonna take out an entire outpost _by yourself?_ "

"No," I say. "I'm gonna take out more."

"More?" Richard inquires.

I declare, "I ain't gonna fuckin' stop until I kill every fuckin' Savior I find! And I'm gonna fuckin' save Negan for last! And I'll beat him with Lucille! I'll bash his motherfucking head in until there ain't nothin' left of that cunt for what he did!"

Carol starts, "Clary, I—"

"Carol, quite frankly, I don't give a damn. I'm goin' by myself 'cause I ain't riskin' anyone else. Not after Jesse, not after Benjamin, not after—" I cut myself off before I say Glenn's name, realizing that she still doesn't know. "Daryl really should've told you."

I open the door, pausing in the threshold when Ezekiel says, "Cheyenne, you're going to get yourself killed doing this."

"Don't you get it?!" I cry. "I know I'm gonna die! I don't give a shit anymore! I've accepted it. I know I ain't coming home." I look down at Benjamin's body. "Let our deaths kindle the flame of the rebellion."

As I step outside, I hear Jerry say, "That was poetic. 'Kindle the flame.'"

"Jerry," Ezekiel scolds. The door opens, and I turn as Ezekiel steps out, running to catch up with me. "Cheyenne."

"Zeke—"

"I can't let you do this in good conscience," he says. "Knowing that you're marching off to your death. Do you honestly expect to defeat Negan?"

"I—"

"You'll die in vain."

"Then don't let my death be in vain!" I cry. "I've accepted this! I'm gonna die, okay, Ezekiel?! And I ain't doin' it to go down as a martyr, as a catalyst to light the rebellion! But if that's what happens, then so be it! The revolution is starting! It's time to rise up! You can't stand on the sidelines anymore! So help us! Join with Alexandria, with the Hilltop! We need what you got!" I step closer to him, standing on my tiptoes to be closer to eye level. My voice breaks as I whisper, "I'm already dead. So help them. Please."

* * *

 **~Carol~**

I open the door at the knock, not sure what to expect after the last time people were here. I'm greeted by Morgan, his entire body splattered with blood. Before I can get a chance to ask about the blood, he questions, "Do you really want to know what happened in Alexandria?"

I hesitate, instead asking, "What happened to you?"

"Killed Richard." He says it so casually. "I strangled him. He's the one that got Benjamin killed, so… Do you want to know what happened in Alexandria?"

I'm terrified of what happened, but I answer, "Yeah."

Morgan nods. "Negan killed Glenn and Abraham."

I can't believe my ears. "What?"

"Beat them to death with a baseball bat. Now the Saviors have Alexandria, and Rick and everybody else… everything they do is for the Saviors now. And they killed more."

"Who?" I demand.

"Killed Spencer, Olivia. They tortured Daryl. They beat the shit out of Aaron. Jesus brought Rick and the rest here because Rick wants them to fight." I wipe my eyes, still trying to process the fact that Glenn is dead. Sweet Glenn, the boy who saved more people than anyone, Clary's best friend. "You wanted to know. Now you do."

* * *

 **~Clary~**

Benjamin's blood on me is dried by the time I reach the Hilltop. I put my crossbow on my back as I near the gate, shouting, "Open the fucking gate, Kal!"

"Clary?" Kal questions. "What's going on?"

"You're opening the fucking gate, that's what! Today, Kal!" I bark, having no time to waste while waiting for the Hilltop's guard to open the gate. As soon as the gate is open enough for me to slip through, I do.

Jesus is at the gate when I enter the Hilltop, and he teases, "I think they could hear you yelling all the way in Alexandria." He stops in front of me, eyes widening. "What's going on? Whoa, why do you have blood on you?"

"Benjamin's dead," I tell him. "You remember him? From the Kingdom? Sweet guy, blond? Not much older than me? Took care of his little brother 'cause he was all that was left for him?"

"He's dead? How?"

"The Saviors," I answer. "I'll meet you in the spare room in five. I need everything you have on the Saviors."

"Where are you going?"

"I have to see Glenn," I say. _I have to say goodbye._

But when I go to see Glenn, I'm not alone. Rosita and Sasha are both there, neither noticing me. "I'm here because I need your help," Rosita tells her.

"One condition," Sasha bargains, understanding exactly what she means. "I get to take the shot."

"Okay," Rosita says. She takes her pack off her back, kneeling to get in it.

"Did you bring any explosives from the bridge?"

"I thought about it. But I didn't want anyone finding out and trying to stop me. I got something better, though." Rosita pulls a sniper rifle out of her bag, and I recognize it as one of the ones Rick, Michonne, and I found. Sasha's eyes widen as she sees it. "So you can take your shot."

Sasha takes it, breathing, "Wow."

"Rick, Michonne, and Clary found guns," Rosita tells her.

"But they aren't ready to move," Sasha guesses.

"They can't. They need more guns, more people, more time, more excuses." I cross my arms over my chest. I wonder what she would say if either of them realized I'm standing right here. "I memorized everything Daryl and Carl told Rick about the inside of Negan's place."

"Jesus made me a map of the outside," Sasha says. "It's far away. It's well defended. There's only two of us."

"You changing your mind?"

"I'm ready to kill him. But I need to make sure you know what this means."

"Do you?"

Sasha scoffs. "They can't catch us alive. If they do, we give them something."

"It's a one-way ticket for both of us," Rosita says. "If it is both of us."

"It is," Sasha confirms.

"Try three of us," I say. Sasha and Rosita turn as I announce myself, but I only look at Sasha. "You can have your shot. But I get to take a swing first."


	14. 13: Fear Strangles A Soldier's Pride

**Chapter 13: Fear Strangles a Soldier's Pride**

 **~Jesus~**

"Sorry for taking over your trailer," Maggie apologizes, sitting on the step below me.

"Oh, I grew up with a lot of people around," I tell her with a small laugh. "I'm used to it."

"Big family?" she questions.

"Uh, group home. This isn't like that, though. Not the bad parts, at least. For the first time, I feel like I belong. Trying to make sure you and Sasha became a part of this made _me_ a part of this. When I was first here… I was never here. I um, I always found it hard getting close to anyone after my mom died. Neighbors, friends… boyfriends."

I steal a glance at Maggie, and she smiles up at me. "You should try it sometime," Maggie recommends. "Even if it doesn't last."

"I, um… Yeah, you're probably right."

"Your mom... you two were close?"

"Before she died, it was just her and I. We were close."

"And now?"

"The only person I've been close to in a long time is Clary. From what I've heard, she has trouble letting people in. Makes me feel special that she trusts me like that."

"I think it's because you remind her of Glenn. I can see it, why you would." I look down at Maggie, unsure of how I can be compared to her late husband. "You're selfless, caring. You saved her life when you didn't have to. At least, she thinks you didn't have to." She sighs, getting to her feet. "I'm gonna talk to our blacksmith about making more spears. Maybe we can trade with the Kingdom for some body armor. Thing is, what we really need is riot gear."

"Riot gear?" I question. Maggie nods, waving her hand in a farewell gesture before going to talk to the blacksmith. I get up, starting to follow her, then head for the gate when I hear shouting.

"Clary?" Kal questions from the top of the gate. "What's going on?"

"You're opening the fucking gate, that's what! Today, Kal!" I hear Clary bark. As soon as the gate is open enough for her to slip through, she's inside.

I meet her at the gate, teasing, "I think they could hear you yelling all the way in Alexandria." I stop her, eyes widening as I take in the blood on her. "What's going on? Whoa, why do you have blood on you?"

"Benjamin's dead," Clary tells me, her voice thick with emotion. "You remember him? From the Kingdom? Sweet guy, blond? Not much older than me? Took care of his little brother 'cause he was all that was left for him?"

"He's dead? How?"

"The Saviors," Clary answers. "I'll meet you in the spare room in five. I need everything you have on the Saviors."

"Where are you going?"

"I have to see Glenn," she says. She doesn't give me another chance to speak, taking off for the graves. I watch her go, then start for my trailer to get the map of the outside of the Saviors' compound. I see Sasha enter as I approach, and Enid follows me inside. I find Sasha holding the book I use to hide ammunition. Sasha pauses, realizing that she's been caught, and says, "I was… looking for something to read the other day, and I…"

"You can have the bullets," I tell her. "I didn't know you had a gun."

"I didn't," Sasha says. "I do now."

"Sasha, don't go," I plead. "Not yet." She sighs, and it dawns on me. "Rosita didn't come here to train people. Clary didn't come here for _just_ information. You're going after Negan, _with them._ "

"Clary's going, no matter what we do," Sasha replies. "She wants revenge. So we're going."

"But you can't do that without people. A _lot_ of people."

"We've talked about this. I know what you think. And I appreciate that. But I'm not gonna change my mind. _She's_ not." Sasha looks around me at Enid. "Does Maggie know Clary and Rosita are here yet?"

"I don't think so," Enid answers. "I didn't."

"Does _Daryl_ know about Clary?"

"No. You should tell her. About all of it. Tell 'em both."

"No, not yet," Sasha says with a shake of her head. "I'm still getting ready. And the thing is, Clary and Rosita are going, with or without me. So it should be _with_ me."

"Then I'll go, too," I volunteer.

"Me, too," Enid adds.

"No," Sasha argues. "The Hilltop needs to be ready for what happens after. Maggie needs you. And Jesus, Clary would _never_ forgive me if something happened to you because I didn't stop you."

"Maggie needs you, too," I tell her.

"Not anymore. She has everyone else, and they have her."

"You can stay. I know you can. But I know you won't and they won't, but I wish you would. 'Cause it's a long life, and then it isn't. You can take anything else you need." I put my hand on the door handle, hoping that Clary is waiting in the spare room in Barrington. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go talk my best friend out of suicide."

* * *

 **~Clary~**

When Jesus isn't in the spare room when I arrive, I turn to leave. I don't have time to waste waiting for him, and if that means I'm going after Negan with no idea about the place, then so be it. I run into Rosita when I start out the back door, and I tell her, "Jesus ain't there. I'm goin', on my own."

"Wait for us," Rosita pleads, wrapping her hand around my wrist. I pause, then nod. We turn as Kal shouts from his watch post, "The Saviors are coming!"

"Shit, we have to get Sasha," I say.

"She went to Jesus's trailer," Rosita tells me. "Where is—"

"Just follow me," I say, taking off for the trailer. I lead the way in, announcing, "Yo, the redcoats are comin'!"

"Where do we hide?" Rosita asks.

"We're not hiding," Sasha answers. "Follow me." So we do, running to a bin of firewood by the wall. She lifts the top of it, showing an empty space beneath the top. "Alright, get it. It goes to the other side. We have to get out before Maggie does."

Rosita climbs in first, and I follow, Sasha going last. We crawl through, coming up on the other side in the woods. "Did you dig that tunnel?" Rosita inquires as we walk.

"Maggie thought we needed a quick way out," Sasha answers. "So I made one."

"We're out," I say as the three of us look at each other. "Now what?"

* * *

We quickly realize that it's too long of a walk to make it on foot, so we start searching for cars. We all pick a car, each of us searching for the keys or trying to hotwire it. I hear Sasha cursing as hers doesn't start. I get to the wires, my fingers working on autopilot from the other times I've hotwired cars. "Any luck?" Sasha inquires, leaning in the passenger side door.

"Not yet," I sigh. I tuck Sam's necklace in my shirt so it doesn't fall off while I lay upside down. The action causes Shane's necklace to slip out from under my shirt, the twenty-two pendant hitting my neck. I sigh. I just can't win with these necklaces.

"I like your necklace," Sasha says as she sees it. "'Twenty-two.' Is that your lucky number?"

"No," I say. "This necklace belonged to the man that tried to kill me, multiple times. Rick killed him first. His name was Shane Walsh, he was a cop, and he wanted me to be a double agent for him. Shane tried to use me to go against Rick. I had both their ears." I look up at Sasha. "I know you doubt me, Sasha. I can tell everyone does. They think I'm losing it. I can see it. But what you and everyone else needs to know is that I've played this game before. I _know_ what I'm doing. I have the ears of Rick, Maggie. Ezekiel. I know how to say what I need to so I can get what I want. Talk less, smile more."

Sasha takes a step back, out of the car. "I'm, uh, I'm gonna go check on Rosita."

"Car's dead, anyway," I say, climbing out of it. Sasha's already checking in with Rosita as I approach, and I hear Rosita say, "Like it? I made it. Car's dead."

Rosita gets out of the car, and Sasha gets out, looking down at the necklace she wears. I recognize it as Abraham's, as the one Rosita made him with the taillight of the their truck. Sasha turns to me, opening her mouth. Before she can speak, I cut her off. "Oh, hell _no_. Don't look at me. I ain't gettin' in the middle of this shit."

I walk away first, following Rosita with Sasha trailing behind us. Rosita looks over at me as we walk, asking, "The, uh, the blood? Yours? You hurt?"

"No," I answer, staring straight ahead. "Benjamin's. Killed by the Saviors."

"I'm sorry," Sasha tells me. "He seemed like a nice kid."

I don't say anything else, knowing that I'll break down. He was so scared when he died, squeezing my hand until he wasn't. Rosita stops by a car, checking it out as Sasha questions, "Where'd you learn to disarm bombs?"

Rosita doesn't answer, instead climbing in the front seat after dropping her bag at Sasha's feet. "Were you in the Army?" Sasha tries.

"Someone I knew," Rosita answers, then glances at Sasha. "Not him. Listen, I'm not here to play 'Get To Know You,' so either we talk about the mission or we don't." Rosita sighs, climbing out of the car. "Clary, will you see if you can get it working? You're better at it than me."

I try to hotwire the car, all while listening to Rosita and Sasha outside of it. Sasha says, "Okay. Jesus said there's some buildings, two, three, four stories, just outside the Sanctuary just to the east of it."

"The Sanctuary?" I question.

"It's what they call the place. At least one the buildings should have a line of sight to the rear courtyard, past the fence with the walkers on it. We hole up, we wait, we take a shot from there. If we have to get closer, there's some weak spots in the perimeter we might still be able to take advantage of. But if we can, I say we stay outside, do it clean."

"What about what you promised me, Lee Harvey?" I question.

"We won't make it out alive if we do that," Sasha says. "We do it my way, maybe we get out alive." Rosita and I share a look, and she picks up her bag, starting off. Sasha demands, "Do you see a problem with that?"

"I wanna make sure we get him," Rosita says, and I follow the two, having no luck with the car. "That means we go in. We shoot from a distance and miss, we don't get another chance."

"I won't miss."

"Even if you shoot and graze him, he doesn't die."

" _I_ won't miss. If we go in and get caught—"

"I won't get caught," Rosita returns.

"What the hell's wrong with you? They take us, we don't get another try. Because they'll kill us. If we're out here, we're alive. We get another go."

"They'll kill _you_ ," I say. "Me? I'm guaranteed to live."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because Negan likes me. Before, he's made sure people don't kill me. He's waiting for my bad day, 'cause he says I'm one bad day away from being him. Truth is, I am. But he thinks that if he keeps me alive long enough, I'll go dark side. I'll become him, join him. That's why I'll live, even if you two die. Even if I kill him."

Sasha's reply is cut off by the growling of walkers, and Rosita and Sasha draw their knives as two approach. I let them take them out, realizing that by me wanting to go in, I'm guaranteeing their deaths at my hands, their blood on my name. More red in my ledger. That's not something I can be responsible for, so maybe it would be better if they stayed out.

I stop walking as Sasha and Rosita continue on, sheathing their knives as they walk. It's not the fear of dying that causes me to stop; it's the fear of failing this mission. I know that Rosita and Sasha are going to fail, even shooting from a distance, and Rosita's right; if Sasha misses, then it's game over. We don't get another shot at Negan. Going in alone, I'd stand a better chance.

The realization hurts me more than any bullet ever could. The fear of a failure of this magnitude strangles my pride, so much that I can't go on. Not with them, at least.

"I'm going back," I announce.

Sasha and Rosita turn to me, the latter asking, "What?"

"You two won't win. You're not _me_. You don't have a chance. So I'm going back."

"You can't!" Sasha cries. "This is what you wanted, wasn't it? To kill Negan?"

"Not like this," I say. "It was supposed to be me. I was supposed to be the one to go in and kill him. But I wouldn't have used a gun."

"You can still come with us."

"No. This is _your_ mission. You'll fail, and I don't want to be there for that."

* * *

It's late in the afternoon when I make it back to the Hilltop, staying in the forest until I know for sure that the Saviors are gone. I watch as their trucks pull out, the gate closing behind them. I enter through the secret passage, scaring the hell out of Enid. "Clary!" she exclaims. "Where's Sasha and Rosita?"

"They kept going," I answer. "They won't win. I knew they won't, so I came back. I'm gonna go out and do it right tomorrow."

I drop my crossbow in surprise as Enid hugs me, begging, "Please, don't leave again. You'll die going after him."

"I've accepted it, E," I tell her, resting my chin on her shoulder as I wrap my arms around her.

"Don't go. Please. There's got to be another way."

"I don't know. I just… I don't know." I step away from Enid, picking up my crossbow. "Where's Jesus?"

"His trailer," Enid answers. I start to take off, but Enid stops me, her hand wrapped around my wrist. "Hey, wait, Clary. I need to talk to you." I turn back to her as she looks down at her feet. "I'm, uh, I'm sorry for kissing Carl."

"Why?" I question. "I broke up with him. You kissed him after."

"He said you were still together?" Enid states, her voice questioning.

"We're not," I tell her. "Why would he say that we were?"

"I don't know," Enid says, shaking her head.

"Hey, look, I know my blessing doesn't count for much, but Carl _is_ a good guy. Go after him, Enid."

"You know, Jesus has been worried sick." I give her a look as she tries to change the subject, but I know she's right. "Before the Saviors came, he said he was going to try to talk his best friend out of suicide. He never did, but you came back anyway. You're here. This is where you're supposed to be, Clary. You're the person that's supposed to lead us. Please, stay this time."

"I will," I promise. "I gotta go see Jesus."

We turn our backs on each other, each heading in opposite directions, Enid on her way and me to Jesus's trailer. The door opens a moment after I knock, Jesus freezing in shock at the sight of me. "Their mission won't work," I say. "They won't ever get close to Negan. I'm gonna have to lead the revolution, the rebellion, against the Saviors. So I came back because I need to live to lead. But I can't lead—not on my own. So Paul Rovia, I would be honored if you would be my right hand man."

Jesus says nothing for a moment before grabbing me and pulling me against him, his arms wrapped tightly around me. "I never thought I'd see you again," he whispers. "Of course, Clary. I'll gladly be your right hand man." He keeps his hands on my shoulders as he pulls back, looking down at me. "You know, with this position, you'll need a title. The people are gonna want something to call you. So, what'll it be? Commander? General? Captain? Khalessi?"

"I'll take whatever they give me, I guess," I say with a shrug.

Jesus looks at me for a good minute before saying, "Corporal."

"Excuse me?"

"Corporal Dixon. It flows. Or Captain."

"Why, 'cause you call me Captain Jack Sparrow?"

Jesus smirks. "You caught me."

I shake my head at him, then sigh, shifting on my feet. "Look, to be completely honest, Jesus, I ain't lookin' for a title. I ain't lookin' for a legacy. I ain't even plannin' to live through this. I'm just lookin' for freedom, and I'm gonna do whatever it takes for it. If that means I have to lead, I'm gonna lead. If I have to die, I'm gonna die. It's as simple as that. Whatever it takes to kill Negan, I'm there, even if I don't walk away. The price of freedom is high, and it's a price I'm willing to pay."

"I can't be the second to someone that's dead, Clary. You gotta live."

"You think I don't want to? I don't _want_ to die, Jesus. No one wants to. But if I have to, then I'll accept it. Just… don't make me out to be a hero, 'cause I ain't one. You're tryin' to put me on a pedestal again, and I don't want to look like a martyr."

"Keep talking the way you talk, and you will be. Clary, when—no, _if_ —you die, no matter what you do from here on out, you're leaving a hell of a legacy behind. Too many people already look at you like you're a hero to not be seen as one in death. So face it, Clary. You're leaving a legacy behind, and it's gonna be a damn good one."

I look away, shaking my head and sighing. "I never wanted this. None of it. I just acted, and somehow, I wound up here. On your door." I look back at him. "So, you gonna let me in, Paul?"

He steps aside, holding the door open. Jesus closes the door behind me, wrinkling his nose when he sees that I'm still wearing the same bloody clothes. He tosses me one of his shirts, and I shamelessly strip in front of him. I trust Jesus, he's seen my scars before. I pull on his shirt, dropping the bloodied one next to my crossbow and jacket by the door, as Jesus reclaims his seat on the couch and picks up his book. He pats the seat beside him when he notices I haven't sat down. Instead of sitting on the couch, I sit on Jesus instead. I straddle him, sitting in his lap. I wrap my arms around his waist, resting my head on his shoulder and closing my eyes as I yawn. "And so the koala returns," he remarks.

"Shush," I murmur. "I'm tired." He wraps his arm around my waist, absentmindedly toying with the bottom of my shirt. "Buy me a drink before you take my shirt off, Paul." He mumbles an apology, moving his hand to the small of my back. "I'm kidding, Paul. Oh, hey, I've been meaning to ask you. Are you okay with me calling you Paul and not Jesus?"

"You can call me whatever you want, poppet," Jesus replies. "My friends called me Jesus, so I learned to respond to it. I couldn't really care less whether you called me Paul or Jesus."

"Hey, Suburbia?"

"Yeah?"

"Love you."

"Love you, too." Jesus chuckles as I yawn again. "Why don't you lay down and take a nap?"

"What if the Saviors come back?" I mumble.

"I won't leave. I'll make sure you're safe. How does that sound?" I nod once. "Now, will you sleep?" I barely manage to crawl off his lap before flopping down onto the couch, putting my head in his lap. "I meant for you to take the bed, but this works, too."

"I'm too tired to move," I say, yawning and cutting myself off.

Jesus chuckles, running his hand through my hair. He must have magic fingers, gentle even as he brushes over my cheek when he moves his hand. Jesus chuckles as I make some noise of content, gladly welcoming sleep I haven't had in a few days. "Just sleep, Clary," Jesus whispers. "I won't leave. I'll be right here. Don't you worry, poppet."

* * *

I didn't want Maggie or Daryl to know that I was in the Hilltop. Maggie only found out when she walked into the trailer to find me asleep on the couch with my head in Jesus's lap, his hand toying with my hair as he read a book. I stayed with Jesus all day after I woke, hoping that Daryl wouldn't run into Maggie. I've purposely been avoiding him, unable to face my brother after forcing him to stay behind at the Kingdom.

I follow Jesus into the Barrington House, just like I've followed him around all day. "What the hell could he want?" I mutter to Jesus as we approach Gregory's door.

"You got me," Jesus replies, knocking.

A moment later, Gregory calls, "Come in." Jesus opens the door, stepping through, and I follow him in. "Ah, not her."

"Freddie said you wanted to see _us_ ," Jesus says, blatantly ignoring Gregory's disapproval of me being in the room. I try not to smirk too much because Freddie had been sent for Jesus, not Jesus and I.

"Yes, have a seat, Jesus," Gregory says. "Charlie, I think you can leave."

"It's Clary, dickhead," I snap, taking a seat on the arm of Jesus's chair. _Maybe this is payback for all the names I called Benjamin._

Gregory frowns, and I resist the urge to smirk when he doesn't argue anymore, instead turning to Jesus. "I noticed you've been slacking on your scavenging and recruiting lately," he says. "And there are too many people in your trailer." Gregory glances at me. "Way too many." He turns back to Jesus as I cross my arms over my chest. "It's a fire hazard. Plenty of room here at Barrington House for our guests. Speaking of which, I have job assignments for the newcomers." Jesus takes the notebook Gregory offers him. "People are gonna stay, they're gonna chip in. No more free rides on the teat."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I interrupt. "Remind me what it is you do all day, Jeffrey? Do you work your ass off? 'Cause from what I can see, you sit on your ass all day, drinking. Where I come from, the leader does just as much work as anyone else. They risk their ass just like everyone else."

"I lead," Gregory says. "I plan. In laymen's terms, I 'risk my ass' dealing with the Saviors. I assign jobs. I'll have your job for you tomorrow, Chelsea."

" _Clary_ stays with me," Jesus says, immediately coming to my defense because he doesn't trust Gregory where Alexandrians are concerned. " _Clary_ goes outside the walls with me." Jesus pauses, glancing up at me before he looks back to Gregory. "You let them take Doctor Carson. Surprised you didn't kneel again. You must be really worried if you're trying to split everyone up."

Gregory chuckles, the sound humorless. "You shouldn't talk to me like that. Who knows what might happen with all these Saviors coming around?"

I start to get up, but Jesus holds out his hand. "No, Clary, don't," he says, then turns to Gregory. "Did you just threaten me?"

"I was being sarcastic, okay?" Gregory says.

"No, I think you just threatened me," Jesus says, sitting forward in his chair.

"Well, think what you want. You know, what I'm saying is I look out for my friends, and I realized something. We're not friends."

"That's pretty bold of you, Gregory," I snarl, not bothering to hide my anger. "You don't threaten a leader's right hand man in front of 'em, especially not in front of _this leader._ And you sure as shit don't threaten him." I get up, leaning across the desk and grabbing the front of Gregory's shirt before he can pull away. "So, tell me, Gregory. And tell me the truth, because I _really_ am getting _fucking sick_ of your lies. Did you just threaten my right hand man?"

Gregory gulps, but he's saved from having to answer by a knock on the door. "Come in," he calls, his voice shaking.

I don't take my eyes off of Gregory as the door opens, and I hear Kal question, "Um, is this a bad time?"

"No, no, no," Gregory rushes, and I feel Jesus's hand on mine. I release Gregory, stepping back in front of Jesus. "Ah, wonderful, tequila. Crack that open for me, would you?" Gregory looks to Jesus and I. "You may go now. Show 'em out, would you, Kal?"

Jesus and I share a look as we start towards the door, and I pause, taking the bottle of tequila from Kal. "I'll take that," I say. "Your 'fearless leader' is already drunk enough."

"Kal, don't give it to Chloe," Gregory says.

"Oh, I've fucking had it with you," I sigh. I take the bottle, then throw it at Gregory. He ducks, and it shatters against the wall behind him. "For the last fucking time! My name is Clary Raleigh, you don't threaten my friends, and you _will_ get my fucking name right!"

"Clary, c'mon," Jesus hisses, taking my arm and pulling me out the door. "What the hell was that?"

"No one, and I mean _no one_ threatens you," I answer shortly. I close my eyes, trying to calm down because the last thing I want to do is snap at Jesus. It's only after I'm calming down do I realize that for the first time in my life, I associated myself with a family other than the Dixons.

 _We got a new family. A better family._

My own words ring in my head. Some of the last words I spoke to Merle, truer now than ever before. Back at the prison, I found a family better than the toxic one I came from. As that family changed, becoming colder as I became distant, I found people to bring me back. Aaron and Eric found me, and I finally have a real family. I met Jesus, someone that makes me actually care about what happens to me.

Jesus takes my hand as I open my eyes, sighing, "Do you think I took it too far?"

"You threw a bottle of tequila at Gregory," Jesus says, then breaks into a grin. "I think you showed him that we're not people to be messed with."

"We should probably go before George sends Kal after us." Jesus snorts in amusement, picking up on my deliberate messing up of Gregory's name. "I shouldn't have thrown the tequila. I could really use a drink."

"C'mon, I think I have whiskey in my trailer," Jesus offers. We start for the exit, but the door opens before we can leave. Daryl steps through, looking around for a second before his eyes land on Jesus and I. "Daryl? Everything okay?"

"Where's Sasha and Rosita?" he demands.

* * *

 **~Rosita~**

Sasha takes the shot, taking out the single walker and guard with one bullet. Eugene ducks down as soon as he realizes what's happening, and I run to meet him at the fence. "Get up," I tell him. "You're getting out." I start to make a hole in the fence, but Eugene still hasn't moved. "Eugene, get up! We're breaking you out. Eugene!"

"No," he whispers. "I'm not going with you."

"What?"

"I didn't ask you to come, so go! People got to be en route."

With that, Eugene finally gets up. But instead of going with us, he walks back inside.

"That weak, lying sack of shit," I hiss. I finish opening the fence, taking off my bag and digging for my gun. "This is it. I'm going in."

"Hold on," Sasha says, trying to move the fence so we can get in. "It's gonna take a second. More could be coming back. Keep an eye out." I stand, watching for anyone as she takes care of the fence. "Just another second."

I turn as I hear a lock, finding Sasha putting a bike lock on the fence so I can't get in. "What the hell are you doing?" I question.

"Go," Sasha whispers, and I can see tears in her eyes. "It's not your time. There's got to be a point to it, right? They need you."

Sasha smiles as she backs away from the fence, both of us knowing that she's going to her death. But she doesn't stop smiling as long as I can see her, and she's probably still grinning as she runs inside. I try to open the fence as I hear gunfire, but it's no use. Two men exit the building, and I grab my bag and run before they can see me.

I don't stop running, not until I know they're not looking for me. I find myself crying, never having been close to Sasha but this was what I wanted to do. I wanted to be the one, even though I promised the shot to Sasha. I wanted it to be me.

"Dammit," I whisper, trying to catch my breath. "Dammit!"

I straighten as I get the feeling someone's watching me, turning to look. There's something in the distance. It could be anyone.

Then, I see the crossbow.


	15. 14: Live to Lead

**Chapter 14: Live to Lead**

 **~Clary~**

Jesus, Daryl, and I look up from the picnic table where we eat breakfast when the gate opens. I didn't hear Kal announce anyone, so I know it's not the Saviors. Kal _always_ warns us when they're coming. Daryl, Jesus, and I look at each other, silent until I hiss, "Stay close to me."

I get up first, and Daryl and Jesus flank me as we make our way towards the gates. I stop when I see the familiar RV pull in, followed by the van we used to take on runs. The one we used before Noah and Aiden died, before Reg was killed by Pete and Pete was killed by Rick. The one Glenn drove out after Daryl and I when we left Alexandria, the one that forced Glenn to go beyond the wall when he should've stayed behind.

Rick's behind the wheel of the RV, but he's not the first one out of the RV. Aaron and Eric are, the latter running as fast as he can and wrapping me in a hug as soon as he reaches me. Aaron's not far behind, his arms crossed. "We thought you were already dead," Eric tells me, his voice shaking. "We thought you were gone."

"I almost was," I admit.

Eric takes a step back, and I see Aaron behind him. Well, he's not happy. He glares at me for a moment before his face softens, stepping forward. Carl cuts Aaron off as he pushes around him, wrapping his arms around me with a sob. "They gave me your letter," Carl whimpers.

"That letter was a mistake," I say, not returning his hug. "I shouldn't have written it."

"Clary, please. We thought you were already dead. Even if we're over, you're still family. I don't want to lose you."

"I'm here," I whisper, wrapping my arms around him. "I'm alive."

As Carl steps away, I see that the others have followed Carl out the RV and the van. "You know, Clary, when you said _I_ have to stay alive, the agreement went both ways," Rick says. " _You_ have to stay alive, too."

"Why do you think I came back?" I question. "I have to live to lead."

"So, I take it you want us to get rid of these letters?" Aaron inquires, pulling the remaining letters out from his jacket pocket. "I gave Carl, Rick, Michonne, and Tara theirs. Rick has Judith's. We all thought you were already dead."

"Give me Benjamin's," I rush in a single breath. Aaron flips through them, saying the names of each person he comes across. _Carol, Maggie, Daryl, Jesus, Ezekiel, Benjamin._ Finally, he extends the one for Benjamin. I don't miss Carl's frown as I quickly take it, tucking it in the inner pocket in my jacket.

"And the others?" Aaron questions.

"Wait," Jesus suddenly says. "You wrote one for me? Is it… is it okay if I read it?"

Aaron looks at me, and I give him a nod. He hands Paul's letter to him, still watching me. "Clary? You didn't say what you wanted me to do with the others."

"Burn 'em," I tell him, but I'm only half paying attention. Instead, I watch Jesus as he reads the letter I only meant for him to see after I was dead. Jesus closes his eyes as he refolds the letter, tucking it in his vest pocket. "Paul?"

He looks up at the sound of his name, and the next thing I know, he's all that I can smell, see, and feel. Jesus has me engulfed in a hug so tight I think I might actually suffocate, but that doesn't stop either of us. He clings to me as I wrap my arms around him, closing my eyes and burying my face in his shoulder. "Damn you, Clary Dixon," Jesus murmurs. "Damn you."

"Love you, too, Suburbia," I return.

"I can't remember a time before I met you," Jesus whispers. "I don't want a time after you."

"Relax, it's okay," I assure him. "I ain't goin' nowhere." I look over his shoulder at Tara. "And Tara? You got somethin' to say?"

* * *

 **~Sasha~**

I push myself up as the door creaks open, a Savior that I don't recognize standing in the doorway. "Hey, there," he says. "You okay?"

"Can I get some water?" I request.

The Savior glances out into the hallway before stepping inside, kneeling right in front of me. "I should introduce myself. I'm David. I wonder if you remember me from last night. Do you?" He looks at me expectantly, and I shake my head. "Well, I can forgive that. Last night was kind of a shitstorm. I was the guy that gave the rope to the guys that tied you up. I always keep some close. There's just all kinds of fun and interesting things you can do with rope."

Oh, shit. This will definitely not end well. Still, I don't flinch as he touches me, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing my fear.

"God, you're pretty," he adds. He glances over his shoulder out into the hall, then looks back at me. "If I give you some water, which is not something I'm supposed to do, will you do something for me?" His hands drifts to the collar of my t-shirt. "Something you're not supposed to do? Will you?" I don't move, letting out a shaky breath as he tears my shirt. He leans in close, and I can feel his breath on my ear as he whispers, "Tell me how thirsty you are."

His nose brushes my cheek as he pulls back a few inches to look at me, and I hiss, "Go to hell."

Before he can react, I headbutt him with a grunt, sending him back. David chuckles, one hand on his head as he sits up. "Oh, shit." He looks at me, dangerously; but I still don't back down. I can take care of myself. "Fighting's just gonna make it last longer. Which, for the record, is fine by me."

He starts to unbuckle his belt, and the last person I'd expect comes to my rescue. Negan bangs on the door of the cell with Lucille, barking, "David!"

David's on his feet in a millisecond, no longer looking at me as all his attention is on Negan. After he looks down at me, Negan demands, "What the hell are you doin' in here?"

"Negar, sir," David starts.

"Do you really think I need you to answer that? I can see that you're trying to rape this woman. You were, weren't you?" Negan steps closer to David, tall and looming as ever. "This is some unacceptable behavior. Rape is against the rules here."

 _And you're all about the rules, aren't you, you son of a bitch?_

"I wouldn't wanna be somewhere where it wasn't. Someone in charge who would let something like that fly…" Negan sighs, shaking his head. David's breath quickens as Negan pulls out a knife, and I can't help but widen my eyes at how big it is. "David. You really crossed a line here."

David shakily whimpers, "I'm sorry, sir."

Negan suddenly shoves the knife through David's neck, saying, "You know what? I do _not_ accept your apology."

He pulls the knife out, and David's body hits the ground next to me with a thud. Slowly, I lift my eyes to look at Negan, who takes a look at me before ordering one of his men, "Hey, get, uh… what's your name, darling?"

"Sasha," I say.

"That is a beautiful name," he tells me before looking back at his man. "Get Sasha here a new t-shirt." The Savior walks off, and Negan kneels beside me. "I'm sorry you had to see that." He reaches behind me, slicing the rope. "Sorry about the rope, too. Probably overkill, but you did cause one hell of a fracas last night."

Negan gets to his feet, and I scoot away from David's body, pressing my back against the wall. Negan chuckles as he takes another look at me. "Oh, shit. I remember you. Yeah, you were there." Negan raises Lucille, knocking in the air two times and clicking his tongue to mimic his killing of Glenn and Abraham. "Oh, hell. I get it now. I gotta hand it to you. You've got some beach-ball sized lady nuts on you, coming in all kamikaze like that. Big question here, and I need the truth on this one—Did Rick and Clary put you up to this?"

"Rick?" I question. Even though the answer really is no, I'm still gonna do everything to protect them. "Your bitch? No. And Clary buckled before we even got close."

"Did you do it for her, so she had a chance while you went in? Either way, you must've thought it was gonna be the end, coming in on your lonesome like that. But that's not the way it's got to go. Just the opposite. See, this… well, this could be the beginning."

* * *

 **~Clary~**

Tara did have something to say. She told us about a group of women called Oceanside, a group with a shit ton of guns and a good reason to want to fight the Saviors. The Saviors killed every man in their group over the age of ten, so they ran and hid, but a couple want to fight. We're hoping to get them to join us, and even if they don't, we're taking their guns. One way or another, hopefully the easy way.

Aaron and Eric keep watch as Jesus, Daryl, and I lay the explosives. They stand side by side, each watching a section of the forest as Aaron says, "I'm glad you came. I know it's been hard. I know you don't want this."

" _Didn't_ want this," Eric corrects. "But I'm starting to understand what's on the menu now. We can hide like these people, we can keep trying to serve the Saviors, I can watch you get randomly beaten every so often, and Clary can worry us when she goes off to nearly get herself killed, or else we can fight. So, here we are." Eric sighs, looking back at Aaron. "And being with you, well… it makes abject terror tolerable."

"Good to see that you're finally comin' 'round, Dad," I say, glancing over my shoulder at them.

"Cheyenne, I'm still pissed." Eric looks at me, then smiles softly. "But I'm glad you're here."

I return his smile, going back to the dynamite. "I should've tried harder to stop Rosita and Sasha," Jesus says as he walks past Daryl and I with the box of explosives, stopping at the next spot. "If they'd have just waited one more day…"

"Well, you got Clary," Daryl says, looking over at Jesus with a grateful smile. "That's what really matters." Daryl clears his throat. "I mean, that's what matters to me. I ain't sayin' that they ain't important. Sasha's a good shot, and Rosita knows how to take care of herself."

I get to my feet, resting one hand on Jesus's arm. I put the other under his chin to force him to look at me, the same way Daryl does to me when he wants me to listen. "Hey," I say softly. "They're probably back at the Hilltop right now. It's okay."

"Let's hope so," Jesus murmurs.

"We're gonna need 'em," Daryl adds. "There's still a whole lotta people who still gotta die."

* * *

 **~Tara~**

"Hi," I say, raising my gun on Natania as soon as she closes the door behind her. "Stay quiet and put your hands on your head."

"We should've just killed you in the village," Natania says, not moving as I make my way towards her.

I check her for weapons, saying, "You're gonna be glad you didn't."

"You're not alone, are you?"

I pull out a chair for her. "Sit."

"What do you want?"

"I want you to sit," I return. The door opens, and I take a step back, but Cyndie doesn't see me at first. "Hey, Cyndie."

She pauses, then turns around. "You promised."

"Yeah, I did, I know. Put your hands on your head." She does as I say, and I check her for weapons. I stand up, finding none. "I didn't have a choice."

"Why are you here?" she questions.

"I said I didn't have a choice," I repeat as Cyndie joins her grandmother by her chair. "But you do, both of you do. My friends are out there right now, and they're gonna take this place, hopefully without firing a shot."

"What? You're gonna 'take this place'?" Cyndie questions. "What are you talking about?"

"We need your guns," I tell them. "We're gonna fight the Saviors. You should join us."

"No," Natania immediately objects.

"The Saviors killed your fathers, your brothers, husbands, and sons. And you ran from them. I thought we got rid of them. Beatrice said there was more out there and she was right. They came back. They killed my friends. They killed my girlfriend. They took us over. They took everything from us. We do whatever the Saviors tell us to do, and they think we're still doing that, but we're not. We're gonna fight them. And we have other communities beside us, and with Oceanside, we would have an army."

"So, that's it?" Cyndie asks. "'Thanks for the guns, you should join us'?"

"If we fight them together, we can beat them," I tell her. "We have to try."

"They'll win, Tara," Natania says. "I've seen it. So have you."

"Just talk to the leaders of my group, Rick and Clary. Just talk, and we don't have to take over this place. We don't want to. I can give them the signal to stop this, but you have to tell me right now." I look down at my watch, checking how much time is left before the dynamite blows. "Listen! We're not just hiding in the woods. We're doing something. We're not giving up. I didn't want to break my promise, Cyndie, okay? But the world can belong to good people, to fair people, if we're all just brave enough to try!"

"We are not good, and we are not brave. Neither you nor me." Natania gestures to her granddaughter. "She is. That's why we're in this mess. Look, Tara, if you take our guns, you might as well be killing us all. That's what you'll be doing."

"We should talk to them," Cyndie tries.

"No."

"We can try to stop this."

"No, Cyndie."

"It doesn't matter," I say, looking down at my watch. "You can't. It's too late."

Barely a second later, the first explosion sounds.

* * *

 **~Clary~**

Michonne fires at the two women approaching the arsenal, but she's careful not to hit them. She fires into the ground in front of them, forcing them to stop. We emerge from the woods, weapons raised and aimed at the two. Eric walks backwards, keeping an eye on us from behind in case any more women come running. Daryl orders, "On the ground, now. Hands on your head."

"No one has to get hurt," I say. "We're takin' this place, like it or not, and commandeering your guns."

"You done, Jack Sparrow?" Jesus teases.

"There should be a Captain in there somewhere."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Jesus retorts. "You done, _Captain_ Jack Sparrow?"

"Nope," I reply, looking back at the two women. "Hands up, get on your knees." One woman gets on her knees, but the other glares at me. "I said, get on your knees."

"Please," Jesus adds.

The woman still doesn't move.

"I won't ask again," I warn. "Put your hands on your head and get on your knees." I aim my handgun at the woman that complied right away. "Or I shoot her."

"Beatrice," the woman on her knees hisses. The other woman, Beatrice, kneels.

"There, that wasn't so hard," I say. "Aaron, Eric, keep your eyes open. Jesus, tie their hands. Daryl, let 'chonne know we're good. Glenn—"

I cut myself off as soon as I realize I said his name. I was so used to leading a team with Glenn on it, and I slipped up. The four that I lead now turn to look at me, each of them pausing. "Daryl, help Jesus," I order, reaching forward and taking the bandana from his pocket. "I got Michonne."

I raise my hand, waving the bandana to let Michonne know everything's okay at our end. Daryl and Jesus finish tying the women's hands. I lead the way as the two escort them to where the rest of their group is being held, Aaron and Eric following behind them. "Get down over there and keep quiet," Daryl orders.

Rick meets me as we come together to stand, side by side, before the women of Oceanside. Rick says, "Now, we made a lot of noise. We want to wrap this up quick so you can send people to redirect anything anything coming this way. Tara said your forests are relatively clear, so we won't take any chances."

"No one needs to get hurt," I tell them, noticing how nervous they all look. "Simply put, don't do stupid shit and you won't get shot. This is just about what you have, what we need. We're takin' 'em, hopefully the easy way."

"Nobody's taking anything!" a woman calls, and I see their leader, Natania, approaching with a gun to Tara's head. "You need to let everyone go and leave right now. Just walk away, or this one dies."

"We'll leave you alone," Rick says. "But we're takin' your weapons with us."

"That ain't changin'," I say. "No matter what happens. Whether we kill Tara or we kill you, whether no one dies or everyone does, we're walkin' out of here with your guns. And I hope to hell we don't have to kill anyone, 'cause I don't want to. Natania, right? I know, Natania, that you don't want me to kill any of your people, either. So you're gonna let Tara go, we're takin' your guns, and we're fightin' the Saviors."

"Put the gun down," Rick says, "and let's talk about what we can change."

"No," Natania says with a shake of her head. "Leave, right now."

Tara looks up at Michonne from her spot in the trees, calling, "Michonne! Don't!"

"We just wanna be left alone."

"Yeah, we'll leave you alone," Rick repeats. "Just let go of her, now. Or we'll kill you. None of us wants that."

"They want us to fight the Saviors," the girl accompanying Natania tells her people.

"We tried that, we lost too much," Natania says. "We're not gonna lose anymore. Not our guns, not our safety, not after everything we've done to get here."

"We're gonna win," Tara promises Oceanside. "With your guns, with or without your help."

"Natania, put the gun down," I tell her.

"You kill me, and you die," Tara says. "Any my people take the guns and nothing changes."

I glance down at Beatrice as she says, "Maybe we should try."

There's murmurs of agreement amongst the women, and I smirk. We've got some of 'em.

The girl says, "Grandma, stop. It's over. Just talk to them."

"Cyndie—" Natania starts.

"Alright, here's how this is gonna happen," I say. "What's your name—Claire, you're gonna take your grandma's gun. Then, you and I are gonna have a talk and you're gonna decide for your group. Will your people fight or stand by?"

"Rick!" Michonne suddenly shouts. "Walkers!"

Cyndie moves then, hitting her grandmother and taking her gun. I bark, "Everybody, up! In a circle! Get the children behind us, in the center!"

My group does as I say, and I hear Beatrice bark, "First shift, join 'em on the line! Knives out! Dead only, dead only!"

I draw my knife, cutting Beatrice free of her restraints before jumping in line between Jesus and Tara. Rick orders, "Everyone, shots within ten feet of the line! That's it!"

And so we get ready as a whole lot of them come, covered in barnacles from being in the ocean. They get within ten feet, and we open fire. "Let 'em get closer!" I shout. "Save your ammo! Knives out!"

I turn as a walker suddenly appears in front of me, and I immediately put my hands on its shoulders to hold it off, dropping my gun in the process. I stumble back, and as I trip over a body, I cry, "Oh, _shit!"_

I land on my back, and a second later, a gunshot rings out above me. I push the walk off, looking up to find that an Oceanside resident has come to my aid. "Thanks, Claire," I say, taking the hand she offers.

As she pulls me to my feet, she replies, "It's Cyndie."

"Are you sure? Because you _really_ look like a Claire."

Cyndie shoots me a look. "It's Cyndie."

"Alright," I say, holding up a hand in surrender before stabbing a walker. They stop coming at some point, and I step forward to put the last one down, pulling my switchblade out of its head as it falls. I turn back to the group, asking, "Everyone okay?"

I receive nods, and Beatrice steps forward to shake my hand after shaking Rick's. "Sorry 'bout earlier," I tell her. "We just needed to get you all in one place."

"Don't worry about it," she replies.

I turn as Natania gets up, starting to walk off as she says, "No. We're not fighting them with you. So take your damn guns and go."

* * *

 **~Eugene~**

I knock on the cell door, closing my eyes as I lean closer to it. "Hello?" I question. "It's Eugene. Word in the halls is that you're all-in with things here. It may not seem like it now, but I assure you, you, too, made the correct select." I sigh softly when I get no reply. "Look, Sasha, I don't know if you're listening, but this _was_ the right choice."

"I was wrong," Sasha finally says. "I can't. I won't." She sounds like she's been crying, or she's close to it. "I've been sitting here, trying to figure out how I could, with what happened, with our friends still out there, still being hurt by them. I don't know how I could've said that. And now… I am trapped. You have to help me."

"I will," I quickly assure her. "I'll help you get used to the idea and illustrate the equation and demonstrate why—"

"It was a mistake," Sasha interrupts. "I was ready. I knew if I didn't kill him last night, it'd be over. And I didn't, so it is. It has to be. You have to get me something. A knife, a gun, a razor blade. Anything."

I glance over my shoulder to see if anyone's listening. "For Negan?"

"No!" Sasha exclaims. "One way or another, he is gonna use me to hurt my friends. _Our_ friends. And there is nothing I can do about it except make sure I'm not alive to give him the chance. If he has me, he _will_ hurt them. I have to die. It's the only way."

"I don't," I start, "I-I-I don't think that—"

"I know you won't do anything to stop them. I know that. But, please, Eugene… don't let them use me to hurt our people." Sasha's crying now, and as badly as I want to help her, I don't want to lose her all the same. "Please, you have to give me something to stop this. A gun, a knife, glass. I don't care. I have to die. Please!"

I have to take a deep breath, making sure my voice isn't shaking before I say, "I… I will consider it."

Sasha lets out a shaky, relieved laugh. "Thank you."

* * *

I look around the hall, making sure I'm alone and not being followed before knocking on the cell door. "Sasha?"

"I'm here," she rushes.

I sigh, my fingers brushing over the bag with the poison in my pocket. "I've given our last exchange a good, hard pro-con think." I shake my head at myself, unable to believe I'm about to do this. "I've decided to grant your request. This will do it."

I take out the bag, slipping it under the door to Sasha.

"It's a poison, homemade by yours truly. I want you to know, that for the record, I absolutely _do not_ want you to go, Sasha."

* * *

 **~Clary~**

I nudge Jesus's arm as I walk alongside him, each of us carrying a basket of guns. He looks at the Oceanside with an apologetic look, but I chose not to face them. I murmur, "Don't look at 'em. We don't have another choice. We need these guns. This is the only way."

Jesus looks down at me before saying, "What Negan said to you, he was right. You're one bad day away from being him."

I look at him for a moment. "I know," I whisper, my voice breaking. "And I'm scared of that day."

"There's only one thing we can do," Jesus tells me. "We'll win, and that day won't ever come."

I let out a shaky, relieved laugh. "Thank you. Thank you, Suburbia."

Jesus tries to shift his basket to one arm, but it's too big so he gives up. Instead, he leans down, kissing my cheek. His beard tickles my cheek, and I have to laugh. Jesus's face lights up with a smile as he pulls back, and I catch Carl looking _very_ unhappy before he turns back to Enid. I know he's talking to her, but he speaks loud enough for Jesus and I to hear. "You asked me if I think about the people that I've killed. It's not just the ones I've killed. I think about the people I _didn't_ kill, too."

* * *

Daryl and I lead the way into Alexandria, each on our own motorcycle, with everyone else behind us. "Oh, my god," I whisper when I see Rosita opening the gate.

I pull off to the side, fumbling with my keys as I take them out of the ignition in my rush to get off the bike. I run to meet Rosita as she closes the gate behind the others, wrapping her in a hug that she returns. I've never been so happy to see her, nearly sobbing in relief. I pull away from her, looking her over as Enid and Jesus run to meet us. "I thought you were dead, _muñeca_ ," I tell her.

"Are you okay?" Enid questions.

"Where's Sasha?" Jesus adds as I step back to stand next to him.

Rosita doesn't answer right away.

I repeat, "Where's Sasha?!"

"She went in," Rosita finally answers. "I couldn't stop her."

"No," I breathe. "It was supposed to be _me!_ It was _always_ supposed to be _me!"_

"Clary, what're you talking about?" Rosita questions.

"Before I even saw you in the Hilltop, I was planning on going on my own. I knew I wasn't coming back and I accepted it! I was ready to give up my life to kill Negan! I knew you two would fail, but I thought you _both_ would make it out alive! Or else I wouldn't've turned back!"

"Clary, you've done more than enough for these communities," Jesus says softly, resting a hand on my back. "And you're so smart! Sacrificing yourself for a play that you know wouldn't work? That's not who you are. I don't know what to tell you aside from the fact that maybe you were never supposed to go in." He looks to Rosita. "Tell her, Rosita."

Rosita pauses for a moment before saying, "There's someone here. Someone you're gonna want to talk to."

Rick and I share a look before I take off after her. Jesus doesn't hesitate to follow, Daryl right behind him. Rick, Michonne, and Tara follow after us, and Rosita leads us to the brownstone with the cell in the basement. Rosita unlocks the cell door, pushing it open and stepping inside. We all stand still as the someone rises from the shadows, and it takes a moment for us to realize that it's Dwight standing there.

Daryl shoves Michonne and Tara aside as he does everything he can to reach Dwight to beat the shit out of him. Rick moves faster, trying to push Daryl back as Tara grabs for Daryl from behind. I try to push around Jesus, but he has an arm wrapped around me before I even can. He lifts me from the ground, and I kick to try to free myself, but I only end up kicking the air. "Whoa, whoa, easy," Jesus says in my ear, completely calm. "I know, Clary, but slow down."

It's only when I stop kicking does Jesus put me down, but he still keeps his arms wrapped around me to hold me back. "What the fuck is he doing here?" I demand.

"He says he wants to help us," Rosita explains.

Jesus releases me, and as soon as he does, I push around Rick, Daryl, and the others. I shove Dwight against the wall, my arm pressed against the throat of my much taller adversary. As I choke him, I growl, "You want to help us? Prove it. Get _me_ in."

"Cheyenne!" Jesus cries, pullin me back from Dwight. The Savior rubs his throat while I put myself between him and Daryl, ready to protect my brother. Jesus stays close to both of us, one arm wrapped around my waist and coming to rest on my hip. He keeps his hand on Daryl's chest behind us, prepared to pull or push us back if Dwight tries anything.

"Is that true?" Rick inquires, turning to look at Dwight as Daryl and I begin to settle down. "You want to help?

"I do," Dwight confirms with a nod.

Rick slowly nods, stepping forward. "Okay," he says, then draws his Colt. "Get on your knees."


	16. 15: Cthulhu, Awaken

**AN: There's a pretty important deleted scene between Dwight and Clary, called "Changing Sides," that goes with this chapter that will be posted today in _Clary Dixon: Deleted Scenes_ , if you're not following it.**

* * *

 **Chapter 15: Cthulhu, Awaken**

 **~Clary~**

Dwight does just as Rick says.

He gets on his knees, but his eyes don't leave Daryl, Jesus, or I. I'm not sure which, each of us standing so close together; but his eyes are on one of us.

"Look at me," Rick orders, and Dwight lifts his eyes to Rick. "Why?"

"'Cause I want it stopped," Dwight answers. "I want Negan dead."

"So why don't you kill him?" I snap.

"Can't just be me. They're all Negan."

"That girl you murdered," Tara starts, and Rick steps aside so she can lean down to look at Dwight, "she had a name. Her name was Denise Cloyd, and she was a doctor. And _she_ helped people."

"I wasn't aiming for her," Dwight says, just like he did that day.

Daryl pushes around Jesus and I before we can stop him, knife drawn as he shoves Dwight against the wall. "Do it," Tara says. "Do it."

"You wanna end it this way?" Dwight inquires. "You go ahead. I'm sorry. I am. I know you want to."

"He could just be here to see if you were here," Rick points out.

"We can't trust him," Michonne agrees.

"He owned me," Dwight says. "But not anymore. What I did, I was doing for someone else. You get that, don't you, Daryl? She just got away. So now I'm here. So are you because of her." Dwight glances around Daryl. "Besides, when have I given you a reason not to trust me?"

"Would you like me to answer that chronologically or alphabetically?" I inquire, then cut him off before he can answer. "You fucking tortured my brother. You fucking shot me. You're a fucking _Savior._ "

"That's neither chronological or alphabetical," Dwight points out.

Jesus has to hold me back.

"Do it," Tara says.

"There's another choice," Dwight says, trying to talk his way out of one of the Dixons murdering him.

"Daryl, you knew her."

"Negan trusts me. We can work together. We can stop him. You knew me then, and you know me now. You know I'm not lying. I'm not."

"Daryl, do it," Tara repeats. "Do it!"

"Daryl," I say. "No. We need him. No, wait, scratch that. We can _use_ him. He can be our way in." I free myself from Jesus, standing on my tiptoes to speak into Daryl's ear like a devil on his shoulder. "You want it just as much as I do. Both of 'em, slow and painful. But sometimes you gotta work with the enemy. So just wait for it."

Daryl lowers his knife.

"They have Sasha, if she's even alive," Rosita tells us.

"Why didn't you say something?" Jesus inquires. "He could be our only chance to get her back."

"Because I don't trust him." Rosita looks to my brother. "But I trust Daryl."

Then, Dwight drops the news I've been dreading. "Negan's coming soon," he says. "Tomorrow. Three trucks, probably."

"And how many is that?" I question. "What's the number?"

"Twenty Saviors, plus him," Dwight answers. "I can slow them down, bring some trees down in the road, buy a little time for you guys to get ready. If you can take them out, that's where we start. You kill them, I'll radio back to the Sanctuary."

"The Sanctuary?" Rick inquires.

"Where Negan lives," Dwight explains. "That's what they call it. I can radio back to them and say everything's okay. You drive the trucks back, and I can lead you right inside, and with the right plan, we can wipe out the rest. Check to see if your friend's still alive."

"What about the outposts?" I question. "Just Alexandria and our allies, it won't be enough to make it to the end."

"So we get the workers on our side, build our numbers up." Our eyes meet, and I know we're on the same page. "We go from outpost to outpost, one after the other, and end this. And it all starts tomorrow."

"Well, it's a good thing Team Family doesn't die," I say, turning to walk out the door with Jesus beside me. "We just go to Hell and regroup."

* * *

I don't look back at the gate as Jesus leaves, doing everything I can not to think that this will be the last time I see him. I hope with everything that I have that I'll make it through tomorrow's battle to see him again, but the reality of the situation is that even behind the walls, I don't know if I'll make it to tomorrow.

 _For the first time, I thinkin' past tomorrow._

I scoff at my own words. The tomorrow that I thought of before we lost Glenn and Abraham never involved me losing so many people. The tomorrow that I think of now, that I fear now, _only_ involves me losing people. Aaron, Eric, Daryl, Jesus. Images of their deaths flash through my mind. Jesus bleeding out from a wound in his chest, his normally bright eyes dulled and lifeless. A shot to the head killing Eric, his already red hair made redder with blood. Negan using Lucille to kill Aaron, forcing me to watch. Dwight lying about whose side he's on, turning on us and killing Daryl.

I squeeze my eyes shut as if it'll block out the images in my head, shaking my head to try to clear my thoughts. I sigh as I hear footsteps running to catch up to me, knowing that it's not anyone I want to see. Jesus just left, taking Judith with him to the Hilltop for her safety; Daryl's currently getting his stuff from Rick's house, so it's not him; Aaron and Eric are back at our house; and Dwight left after I spoke to him.

"Clary!"

It's Carl. Oh boy.

I turn to look at him, crossing my arms over my chest as I inquire, "Yes?"

"We need to talk," he says.

"About what?"

"About us."

"Carl, there is no 'us.'"

"I still love you, Clary. I always will."

"You know, that kind of obsession isn't healthy," I say, turning to walk away. "Enid likes you, you know. You really should just move on."

"What, like you have?" I turn back to him. "I mean, I can tell that you've moved on. I watched you leave Benjamin's room at the Kingdom."

"Benjamin's dead," I snap. "You happy that the other guy I slept with is dead?"

"Did you love him?"

"Love Benjamin?" I inquire. "No. I thought I'd have to fuck him to get him on our side, to get him to follow me. Thing is, he was already on our side. It didn't matter what I did, he was with us. Look, I didn't fuck him to hurt you. I did it 'cause I need the Kingdom."

"So you slept with him just to make sure you'd have another soldier for this war?" Carl questions, shaking his head. "You do that with the others that follow you? Is that why he follows you around everywhere? I've seen you two."

"You gotta be more specific."

"I've seen how you are with him. I've seen how you are with Jesus."

"Jesus?" I question, the name barked out in a laugh.

"Yes, Jesus! You're always holding his hand! You let him close to you faster than you let me. I see how you look at him."

"Carl, oh my god, you don't even know how wrong you are. It's kind of funny, actually."

"Don't talk to me like that."

"Carl, I'm completely serious," I say, shaking my head. "There is nothing, and I mean _nothing_ , romantic or sexual between Jesus and I."

"I'm calling bullshit on that," he says.

"Carl, you know that Jesus is gay, right?" I get a look of confusion, Carl stammering as he tries to defend himself. "Jesus is completely, one hundred percent gay. You really didn't know that?" Carl shakes his head. "And you really don't know me at all, Grimes. Do you really want to know why I'm so close to Jesus?"

"You already know that answer," Carl says.

"He saved my life. In more ways than one. I was numb to it all, and _he_ made me feel alive again. He made me want to live. That's why I love Jesus. That's why he's my second, even before Daryl. I need him."

"Let me guess. You don't need anyone else."

"Christ, you're so fucking stupid, Carl!" I suddenly snap. "Can't you get it through your thick fucking skull that I left after Negan because you're in danger?! If the fact that you're Rick's son isn't bad enough, the fact that I love you is even worse! Negan will do anything to get to Rick or to me! And he knows he can just by threatening you! I'm trying to get you to stay away from me so there's one less reason for you to be in danger."

* * *

 **~Ezekiel~**

I can't help but to think of Benjamin when I see the shopping carts blocking our path. Carol makes a decision before I do, ordering, "Guns up, now."

"What the hell?" Alvaro questions as they raise their guns, Shiva letting out a growl. "He's dead."

"What is it?" Carol questions.

"We've seen this before," Dianne informs her.

"Same ones," Morgan says, and we all turn as he steps out from behind a truck. We instinctively aim our guns at him, then lower them when we realize he's a friendly. Carol steps forward to talk to Morgan, and I can only stare at him. The bo staff he used to use has been sharpened into a point at one end, and he wears armor. Armor from the Kingdom, armor that I'd recognize anywhere.

I can only look at the armor sadly as I step towards him, finally lifting my eyes to his and asking, "Do you seek to extinguish everything of who you were?"

Morgan answers, "I don't seek it, but… I'm stuck."

"You want the Saviors dead? Morgan."

"Yes, I do," he answers.

"Cease this folly," I command. "Accompany my regiment. The Saviors are a dragon with many heads, their numbers legion. We must seek allies in this endeavor." I swallow, gathering enough courage to finally say it. "That's Benjamin's armor." Morgan glances at me. "Do you wear it to serve you, or do you wear it in his honor? Morgan, you are not stuck. Join us on this journey to create an alliance. Fight with us, and we shall defeat them so that no one will suffer under their capricious malevolence ever again."

Morgan shakes his head before nodding.

"And we shall start once more for the fallen," I announce, "for the Kingdom, and for the glory of victory."

* * *

 **~Clary~**

The Scavengers arrive in garbage trucks and on bicycles, Jadis looking around as she walks to meet us. "What you fight for," Jadis says.

"Not the place," Rick corrects her. "The people." He looks over at Michonne. "Each other."

"You're a part of that now," I tell Jadis.

"We take, we don't bother," Jadis says. "Our way. Maybe another way." She looks at Michonne, gesturing to Rick with a nod of her head. "Yours?"

Michonne looks a little confused at first before she says, "Yeah, we're together."

"I lay with him after. You care?"

I have to walk away so I don't start laughing at the look on Michonne's face, and I can't contain it anymore when I see Rick's. Rick and Michonne turn around, both wearing matching looks of disbelief. I manage to get my laughter under control as Daryl steps up beside me, Rick and Michonne turning back to Jadis. "What's so funny?" Daryl questions.

"Fuckin' Haircut," I say, still chuckling. "She wanted to know if 'chonnie cared if she fucked Rick!"

"Bet that didn't go over too well," Daryl says, smirking. "C'mon, we could use another hand with the bomb."

I follow Daryl out of the gate, joining Aaron and Rosita in the moving truck that we parked alongside the road. We work carefully, Rosita hooking the bomb up to a remote controlled detonator. The others block the road in front of the gate with cars, getting everything into position. Rosita runs over the plan again with Rick once we return inside, grabbing guns and getting ready. We wait for the turkey call from the Scavenger Jadis sent out to warn us in advance of the Saviors' arrival.

Finally, we hear it. The people stationed along the top of the wall duck down so they won't be seen, Rick drawing his gun from where he stands at the watch post by the gate. "Rosita," he calls, turning to look down at her. "Get in position. I'll signal you. And the wall's gonna hold?"

"The wall's gonna hold," she assures him.

I glance behind me at Daryl as I put the butt of my rifle on my shoulder, telling him, "Stay close."

"I thought that was my line," Daryl returns.

I turn back to the gate as I hear a voice I thought I wouldn't hear again. Eugene speaks through a megaphone, saying, "All points are covered. Every contingency is already met. I come armed with two barrels of the truth."

I share a look with Rosita as she steps towards the gate, and I see Eugene riding in the back of a truck as it approaches, holding a megaphone. She was right. That son of a bitch really is with the Saviors. He's turned on us.

Eugene continues, "A test is upon you, and I'm giving out the cheat sheet." The brakes hiss as the vehicles come to a stop. "Hello. I come salved with the hope that it is my dropped knowledge that you heed."

"What the fuck did he say?" I whisper to Daryl. "He sounds like Zeke."

"Options are zero to none. Compliance and fealty are your only escape. Bottom-lining it, you may thrive or you may die. I sincerely wish for the former, for everyone's sake. The jig is up and in full effect. Will you comply, Rick?"

Rick glances down at me, before asking, "Where's Negan?"

"I'm Negan," Eugene says.

Rick closes his eyes before looking down at Rosita and I. I turn to Rosita, hissing, "He's a traitor, he's not one of us. _Do it._ "

Rick ducks down as Rosita presses the detonator, but nothing happens. We share a look, and she tries it again. Same result. Suddenly, the Scavengers all raise their guns, turning on us. The lock on the gate clicks, one pulling it open. I shift on my feet to stand in front of Daryl, as if that'll block the Saviors' view of him.

Negan climbs out of the black truck, followed by Dwight. Jadis keeps her gun on Rick as Negan joins Eugene on the back of the truck, Lucille on his shoulder as he asks, "You ever hear the one about the stupid little prick named Rick who thought he knew shit but didn't know shit and got everyone he gave a shit about killed?" Negan points to Rick up on the wall. "It's about you."

I return, "You ever hear the one about the guy who brought a baseball bat to a gunfight, fucker?"

"Ah, tiger, be nice," Negan chides. "You're all gonna want to put your guns down now."

"No one drops anything," Rick says, then looks at Jadis. "We had a deal."

"Tamiel came for the boat things," Jadis replies. "Followed ones who took. Made a better deal."

"You lying bitch!" I snap. I don't flinch as I feel the barrel of a gun press into my shoulder blade, hardly afraid after everything that's happened so far.

"You push me and you push me," Negan sighs. "You tried to blow us up, right? I mean, I get me, my people. But Eugene? He's one of yours."

"He's not," I return. "He's a traitor."

"Tiger, you tried to stand up for Eugene," Negan points out. "What happened to that?"

"There is no Eugene. Eugene was family, but that?" I point out to Eugene. "That's a Savior. That's Negan."

"You people… are _animals_. Universe gives you a sign, and you just—" Negan sticks his middle finger up. "—shove your finger right up its ass! Dwight, Simon, chop-chop."

I watch Dwight as he and Simon join the others on the truck bed, unhooking something in the back. They pull the cloth off of it, and I see a coffin. They wheel it to the middle, sitting it up so it stands on its end. Negan sighs, stepping forward to stand beside it.

"So, you don't like Eugene anymore," Negan says. "You guys gotta like Sasha. I do, too." Negan raises Lucille, knocking on the outside of the coffin; and I realize that Sasha's in there. "Got her right here, packaged for your convenience, alive and well. Now, I brought her so I wouldn't have to kill all of you, and not killing all of you could get complicated. See, I know there's a lot of firepower in there, Rick. So I'm gonna make this simple. I want all the guns you've managed to scrape up. Yup, I know about those, too. I want every last grain of lemonade you've got left. I want a person of your own choosing for Lucille. And Daryl… oh, I gotta get me my Daryl back. I see you. And the pool table, and all the pool cues and chalk. And I want it now, or Sasha dies, and then all of you. Probably."

Negan's eyes drift to me as he says that, but I'm too busy running through who we could sacrifice so I don't have to lose any more of my family to that son of a bitch. I step forward, putting my gun on my back. "Choose someone, right?" I question. "Okay. I got it. Eric, I want you to go get the lemonade. Aaron, you and Daryl go get the pool table. I don't want you to see this."

"Tiger, tiger, tiger," Negan says with a grin. "Say goodbye to the ones you love."

"Clary!" Rick barks as I take another step forward. "Clary, don't!"

"C'mon, Rick. Just 'cause I brought Sasha here in a casket doesn't mean she has to leave in it." Negan sighs as I stop, looking up to Rick. "You know what? You suck ass, Rick. You really do. I don't want to have to kill her, but that's exactly what you're gonna make me do."

"Let me see her," Rick demands.

"Alright," Negan says. "Just give me a second. I might have to get her up to speed. You can't hear shit inside this thing." He knocks on the casket with Lucille again. "Sash. You're not gonna believe this crap!"

I hear the growling the second Negan opens the casket, and I instantly know everything that he's said was a lie. "Holy goddamn!" Negan shouts, backing up as the walker that was once Sasha attacks him.

Carl fires the first shot as Negan falls off the truck, taking Sasha with him. We follow Carl's lead, firing on both the Scavengers and Saviors. Daryl and I go back to back, him firing at the Saviors while I take on the Scavengers. Rosita pushes forward, but a Scavenger fires on her. Tara and I both fire at the same time, taking out the enemy. "Get Rose!" I bark. "I'll cover you!"

Tara runs to her, putting Rosita's arm around her shoulders and wrapping her arm around Rosita's waist. I start to follow after them, Daryl taking cover behind a car. We make it to the solar panels before I turn to see if anyone's following us. Rosita and Tara continue on, but I stop when I see Jadis shoot Rick in the hip, then kick him off the watchpost. I almost fire when I see someone running to meet me, then lower my gun when I realize that it's Carl.

"Let's go, you and me!" Carl shouts over the gunfire, shooting a Scavenger as she approaches.

"Just like old times!" I shout, pressing my back to his as we move. I let out a cry as someone tackles me from the side, ripping the gun from my hands. I try to fight them off, but stop when my own gun is aimed at me by Dwight. "What the fuck?!"

"It's gonna be okay," he quickly says.

"Carl, don't shoot!" I order, holding out a hand to stop him as he aims at Dwight.

"Kid, I need you to drop the gun," Dwight says, glancing over at him. "I'm not gonna hurt you, but you need to drop it. We need it to look like I'm taking you hostage."

"Like you aren't already?!" Carl demands.

"D, do what you gotta," I say. "Carl, drop it."

"Put up a fight, Dixon," Dwight says. So I do. I shove him off of me, and he drops the gun as we go mano a mano. I fall back into Carl as Dwight throws a punch, and he catches me. Instantly, Dwight raises a handgun on us. More Saviors come running over, marching Carl and I to the grass beside the lake. They force us to our knees, taking out weapons. Carl glances towards me, whispering, "I'm sorry. You were right."

Rick arrives, held at gunpoint by Jadis. He freezes when he sees Carl and I, then gasps when Jadis prods him where she shot him. "Move," she orders, pushing him forwards.

There's footsteps behind me, and I swallow as I hear Negan say, "Hello again."

There's gunfire in the distance as Jadis marches Rick over to us, commanding, "Down. Or again."

Rick gets on his knees on my other side, one hand over the wound in his side. "Well, shit, Rick," Negan says. "You just couldn't stick with us, huh? You had to go with these filthy garbage people, huh? No offense."

"Deal is for twelve, yes?" Jadis questions.

"Ten," Negan says. "People are a resource."

"Twelve," Jadis tries again, but Negan simply glares at her. "Ten."

Negan chuckles, then sighs, looking down at us. "Rick, Clary. This is just gonna make you sad. Broken. You're gonna wish you were dead."

"And so will you when I'm done with you," I growl.

Negan grabs a fistful of my hair, and I cry out as he yanks me back to look up at them. "Watch your pretty little mouth, tiger." He releases me, walking around to stand in front of us. "I like having fun. I do. But maybe you think that the guy that did what he did to your friends wasn't me, like that was some sort of put-on, like I'm not the guy with the the bat, like I'm just the guy that makes the kid spaghetti."

"Go to hell, you son of a bitch," I growl.

"Oh, hell," Negan sighs. "Maybe this is on me. Maybe this is all on me. I gotta make it right. I guess I gotta start all over again. I gotta tell you, Rick, if I had a kid, I'd want him to be just like your kid, which makes this so much harder."

"You're not gonna win," Carl snaps.

"Carl," Negan says. "It is over. Why don't you point your one eyeball up the street there and take it all in?"

So I look. Our people are beaten, being forced to their knees and some of them with their hands tied. _Jesus, where are you? Where's the Hilltop? We need you!_ Our attention is drawn to the brownstones where Michonne and one of the Scavengers were stationed as a woman screams, a body falling from the roof. From this distance, it's impossible to see who it is.

I pray that it's not who I think it is, and Carl's hand finds mine. I grasp it as tightly as he grasps mine, blinking back tears in my eyes. "Ohh," Negan chuckles, kneeling in front of Rick. "You just lost somebody important to you right now, like just now! Jesus. That is timing. Well, Rick, you chose this. I truly don't know what more I could've done to warn you. And this isn't a warning. This is punishment. I'm gonna kill Carl now."

"No!" I cry.

Negan glances over at me, continuing, "I'm gonna make it one nice, hard swing, try to do it in one because I like him. I just want you to put that in your brain and roll it around for a minute. I'm gonna kill Carl, and then Lucille here, she's gonna take your hands, Rick. And then, Clary, you and big brother are coming with me."

"You can do it right in front of me," Rick says. "You can take my hands. I told you already—I'm gonna kill you. All of you. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow… but _nothing_ is gonna change that. _Nothing._ "

"Because in the cold light of day," I repeat, "you're pretty much dead already."

Negan pauses for a moment before he chuckles, saying, "Damn. Wow, Rick. Okay. You said I could do it."

As Negan steps back, walking around Rick to Carl, I turn on my knee to face him. I rest my hands on his shoulders, whispering, "I'm so sorry, Cowboy."

Negan tosses Carl's hat aside, raising Lucille to swing. I suddenly shove Carl aside, taking his place. Carl lets out a cry as Negan's bat begins its descent, but a roar and a scream causes Negan to spin away from me. He stumbles back with a yell as Shiva tears into the throat of one of his men, the Saviors scattering in any and every direction away from the tiger.

Ezekiel follows behind Shiva, firing on the Saviors with his men. "End these Saviors and their accomplices!" Ezekiel shouts. "Alexandria will not fall, not on this day!"

I fall forward on my hands and knees, letting out a breath in relief. Behind me, I can hear Maggie shouting, and I know she's brought the Hilltop and my right hand man. I lift my head, seeing everyone that's come to our rescue. At the same time, I see a Savior heading for me, knife in hand. I throw my hands up, blocking the knife. However, his weight causes me to fall on my back. As he tries to push down on the knife, I yell, "Shiva!"

I manage to get my feet on his chest and kick him back. He stumbles to his feet just as Shiva arrives, leaping over me as she attacks the Savior. Carl and Rick are already up, running in the opposite direction with guns in hand. However, Eric runs into the fray. He presses a spare gun into my hand, wrapping his arm around my shoulders as he pulls me with him to find cover. From behind a car, I catch of glimpse of Negan as he yells, "Dixon! Give her to me! She's mine!"

"Go fuck yourself, psycho!" Eric returns.

"And it's Raleigh!" I shout.

Eric passes me an extra clip, ordering, "Go find the others! I'll cover you!"

I take off, ducking around a house, and I see Eric take off in the opposite direction. I keep my gun raised as I walk backwards, searching for anyone on my side. My back hits something, and I spin, aiming my gun at who I hit. Dwight and I pause as we see each other, guns raised on the other. "I'm sorry about earlier," he says. He spins the pistol in his hand, pressing it into the palm of my free hand. "Here, take this! It's not mine!"

I nod once, then see a Savior approaching over his shoulder as he raises a second handgun. "D!" the Savior shouts. "What're you doing?!"

I don't hesitate to fire, killing the other Savior. "They can't know," I tell him, then give him a quick grin. "You pack a mean punch, by the way."

"So do you," Dwight returns with a smirk. We turn at the same time, going back to back. A month ago, I flinched as he brushed me before he shot me. This time, we press our backs together for our own protection. We fire on any Savior or Scavenger we see. "Shit!" Dwight suddenly shouts. "I'm out!"

I holster one of my stolen guns for a split second, tossing Dwight an extra magazine over my shoulder. I go back to firing, noticing that they're starting to retreat. The Scavengers start tossing smoke grenades as they run, someone firing a flare from inside Alexandria. "They're running!" Dwight announces.

"D, go!" I shout. "Don't get caught! They can't know!"

I lower one of my guns as Dwight turns to face me, resting a hand on my shoulder. "You good here?"

"Go!" I repeat.

"Clary, wait," Dwight says as I start to run off. "I didn't know about them, I swear."

"I believe you," I assure him, and we go our separate ways. Dwight takes off, running for the gate. I run to find the others, tossing one gun aside as it clicks, out of ammo. I come to a halt by the RV, nodding to Jesus as he takes off with Maggie and Enid. "D's on our side," I tell Rick. "He really is."

"Cheyenne!" Ezekiel shouts as he arrives, a legion of knights behind him, plus Carol. "Are we finishing this?!"

I answer by taking the lead, raising my gun and barking, "On me! Chase 'em to the gate! Drive 'em out!"

"This is our town!" Aaron barks, remembering Heath's words the night we took Alexandria back from the dead. "Ain't nobody taking it, dead or alive!"

"For Alexandria!" one of the knights shout, and soon enough, we all echo the battle cry. I catch of glimpse of Dwight, his back pressed against a house as he waits for a Scavenger to pass. He raises his fist in the air, taking up the call, but it's drowned out by gunfire. I take out the Scavenger as she starts to round the corner, then motion for Dwight to run for it. Daryl starts to raise his gun in his direction, but I shake my head.

Dwight runs out the gate, following after the others retreating. Some Scavengers remain at the top of the wall, firing at us to provide cover for the others. We duck aside as they pull the gate closed, running. We return fire as they run, pausing for a moment as they disappear from the top of the wall. "Now!" Daryl shouts.

Aaron, along with Jerry, Ezekiel, and Morgan run to the gate, trying to pull it open. Daryl and I climb the garbage truck to the top of the wall, and I break into a wide smile as I see that they're gone. "They're gone," Daryl says. "They ran."

"You know what this means, right?" I say, then turn back to the others, announcing, "We won!"

"We won!" Ezekiel echoes.

Jesus chimes in, "We won!"

Daryl wraps his arm around my shoulders I throw my fist in the air, both of us shouting at the top of our lungs, "We won!"

* * *

It's Ezekiel that wakes me from my much needed nap. I had fallen asleep on Aaron and Eric's porch swing, Shiva lying on the ground below it. She kept close, watching over me as I slept, and she noses me awake as Ezekiel approaches.

I lift my head as Ezekiel arrives, scratching Shiva behind her ears. "I apologize for waking you," Ezekiel says, glancing down when he notices I'm awake. "You seemed deep in a well deserved rest."

"I was," I murmur, sitting up.

"My apologies," Ezekiel repeats. "I must say, Cheyenne, I'm impressed. Shiva seems to have taken a very strong liking to you."

"I hope you mean that in a good way," I say. "I don't wanna end up a Sheba treat."

Ezekiel chuckles, shaking his head. "No, my fair lady. Shiva is, well, she's protective over you. Lying here with you as you sleep, watching over you."

Ezekiel smiles softly, offering me a hand. I take it, and he pulls me to my feet. "Your talk with Rick and Maggie went _that_ quick?"

"We spoke for at least two hours," Ezekiel tells me. "We were going to wake you before our meeting, but Rick didn't want to."

"I needed some rest, so thanks." I pause, glancing down before back up at Ezekiel. "You guys all on the same page?" Ezekiel nods once. "Alright. Now it's time to get everyone else with us."

"Come," Ezekiel says, gesturing his head as he starts down the porch steps. "Walk with me."

"Shiva," I say, beckoning the tiger to come with us. She walks between Ezekiel and I as we head towards the clearing just past the graveyard. I pause as we pass it, looking down at the fresh grave. We buried Sasha after Jesus and Maggie found her in the woods and put her down. "You know, I buried Sasha's brother when he died. His name was Tyreese. He was a good man. So was my brother. Dwight, he shot me in the shoulder the day we met Negan. After Negan killed my brother, Glenn, Sasha buried him."

"You buried her brother and she buried yours. My condolences."

"Thank you. For everything, Ezekiel."

"You were already dead," Ezekiel murmurs, remembering how I begged him for his help.

"Everyone thought I was, and they were ready to fight. I kindled the flames of rebellion without dying." Ezekiel and I pause, and I look down as I remember Benjamin's death. "Henry." I look up at Ezekiel as I remember Benjamin's little brother. "Is he okay?"

"Physically, yes," Ezekiel answers.

"I'm sorry. Benjamin told me he was going on a drop. I should've stayed and gone with him. Maybe I coulda done somethin'. Or maybe I should've let him ask you if he could stay back." I sigh softly. "I should've been there. I could've saved him." I bite my lip, realizing I still have to keep up my lie. "I didn't want to lose him."

"No wonder he begged me to join you," Ezekiel says, and I look over to see him smiling sadly at me. "He really liked you."

"I got a second chance to fight and he didn't. It ain't fair."

"Benjamin wanted to fight."

"I, uh, I never got a chance to ask him. Did he ever kill anyone?" Ezekiel shakes his head. "Good. It's not easy. Killing… it's become second nature for me. What comes after..." I pause, shaking my head. "That's the hard part."

"When you first asked for help from the Kingdom, you told me you killed thirty-seven people."

"I think I need to stop counting. It's gonna kill me." I glance down at Shiva as she brushes against me. "We should go." We meet up with Rick and Maggie at a platform they set up, allowing everyone that's gathered to see them. "We all on the same page?" I receive nods. "Alright. Now we just gotta give the people an idea of what's coming."

"And Cthulhu awakens," Ezekiel says.

"And I'm bringin' death and damnation," I say as I step towards the front of the platform. "Three communities have united as one to fight against a common enemy. The Saviors, and apparently, the Scavengers, too. We've started the revolution, now it's time for you to rise up and take part in it. What you saw today, what you took part in, is only a taste of what's to come. But we won't let 'em hit us at home anymore. We're gonna hit 'em first, hit 'em quick, and hit 'em hard. The Saviors have the numbers, and they still outnumbered us today. But they ran because we hit when they weren't expecting it.

"There was a story once told to me. It was a while back. Rick, he told us about his grandfather, a World War II vet. He told us about how his grandfather knew he was dead the minute he stepped into enemy territory. The thing is, we might be, too. Hell, we probably _are_ already dead. But everyday, Pappy Grimes told himself, 'Rest in peace. Now get up and go to war.' There's a very good chance that everyone around us, they might not make it out alive. There's a chance none of us might. So the ones that are here, the ones that are willing to fight, pretend you're dead. It makes it a hell of a lot easier." I look down at Daryl. "You once said we weren't them. You were right then, we weren't. Now, we are." I look back out at the volunteers before me, civilians turned soldiers. "The only way for us to make it out alive is for us to tell ourselves that we are the walking dead. So rest in peace. Now get up and go to war! For we are the dead, and what is dead may never die!"


End file.
